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[marigolds]

I'm teaching my first literature course after a hundred years of composition.  It's a (wait for it) Writing About Literature class, so I've struggled all semester to balance the discussion and analysis of the texts with skills-based instruction on how people who write about literature do it.  I have played with lots of ideas about the final exam, and I couldn't decide on one that 'felt right.'  So I opened it up to the class, and asked them to write exam proposals, with justifications for why they thought their exam would be good, given the line we've been walking between writing skills and literature skills.

They blew me away.  This is a class of 100% non-majors, taking this to fulfill a writing-intensive course requirement - and every single one of them proposed exam formats and questions that are actually MORE challenging, dig deeper, and require more synthesis of the two competing course objectives than I'd dreamed of assigning them.  They came up with ideas that fit with the way the class has been conducted - some suggested group components to the exam; some even suggested a graded workshop skills component [!].  Some wanted to be tested on *all* material (including the historical, contextual material in student presentations) in addition to writing thematic essays and/or doing close readings of new works.

I think this one is my favorite, though: "I suggest we compile a reflective/portfolio of the reading and writing we have done over the course of the semester. This compilation could include writing we have already done (with analysis and/or explanation of the works) as well as further exploration of some of the readings or work we wish we had done. This option will provide a thorough, comprehensive review of the course material. It will also allow a flexible turn-in schedule so that it can be prioritized to fit other exam dates."

I was really, truly expecting them to propose things that were easy for them, but they want to show off what they've learned.  I'm so mushy about them right now - I'm actually a little bit teary-eyed after reading proposal after proposal like this. 

[msmicrobe]

I was really, truly expecting them to propose things that were easy for them, but they want to show off what they've learned.  I'm so mushy about them right now - I'm actually a little bit teary-eyed after reading proposal after proposal like this. 

That is fantastic! Have a box of tissues. And come chocolates to celebrate That's good news that they really seem to get what the class is about.

I suggest printing this post out and putting it into your happy file. (I hope you have one!) For those who may not- a happy file is a folder or box where you deposit records of happy events, thank you notes that touch you, and other tokens of your successes. On the days you can't face the world, you pull out the happy file and review the contents. You'll feel better. I have a work one and a home one. Sappy notes from kids, a special note from hubby, etc. They provide a real boost in the dark days that we all face now and then. They can also help validate your self worth when it takes a beating. 

Definitely happy file material, marigolds. All of these posts are.

[phlegmatic]

Great idea--both this thread and the happy file!

I am waiting for a real "victory" to share a story. Most of my great stories are from students who are already amazing students. But I wanted to bookmark this page so I can see everyone else's victory stories. Keep them coming!

[systeme_d_]

The stuff that you all have posted here is just terrific.  I am so pleased to read about your classroom victories, and I'm looking forward to more.  These "light bulb" moments really keep me going through the more trying aspects of my job, and I can tell that it's the same for so many of you.

So I thought I'd go ahead and post the experience that made me think about starting this thread.  For those of you who read it over on the Inhaling thread, my apologies for cross-posting.

Today, I had one of the greatest undergrad classroom moments in the history of the universe.  Everything just clicked.  I was trying to help my undergrad students (who are reading Discipline and Punish) understand what Foucault meant by "discourse" and "knowledge" and "discipline" and "hegemony" and "power" and all that stuff.

One potentially illustrative example that came to me, unbidden, was the LOLcat "discourse" on Icanhascheezburger.  My students ate it up.  It clicked with them.  For the rest of the class, they were rapt.  And other definitions and examples just kept coming to me, and to them.  By the time class was over, they'd performed a Foucaultian analysis and archaeology of LOLcat knowledge.  My students left class feeling much better about their grasp of Foucault.  They left class feeling smarter.  They knew they'd "gotten it."

[anon4now]

I love this thread! Keep 'em coming. No victories to report here yet, but in every class there's hope.

[drmooks]

What an inspiring thread!  I had an accidental classroom victory not long ago.  After reading a brief excerpt detailing a young child's first experience with an electric light bulb in the 1870s, I tossed out a question about what kind of technological innovations they would point to if given the opportunity to explain to succeeding generations about how much has changed in their own lifetime.  I figured I would get one or two comments about iPhones and move on after a couple of minutes.  About 15-20 minutes later, we had a list on the board detailing everything from digital music and high-definition televisions to portable DVD players to wireless internet.  It was fun to see their faces light up as they thought of something else to add to the list.  In the future, I'll need to actually plan for this discussion and budget the class time accordingly.

[ideagirl]

One year, while teaching freshman comp, I asked my students on the first day of class to write down some genres that they read for fun (i.e. not school-related).  One student wrote, "Honestly, I have never read anything for fun in my life.  I hate to read."

Three weeks later, he came bouncing into class looking extremely enthusiastic about something.  We had just started a new novel (I had assigned the first three chapters), and I started with my usual question about first impressions.  The non-reader student raised his hand, and before I even finished saying his name burst out with, "This is the greatest thing I have ever read.  I haven't slept for two days and I skipped my physics class because I had to finish it, even though you only assigned the first three chapters and I just couldn't put it down!"  The rest of the class laughed a little, but it started a really good discussion about why the novel was so compelling, how it grabbed their attention (it turned out that they had all read ahead), etc.

Six months later I ran into that same student browsing in a local bookstore.  He told me that I had changed his life, and that since my class he was actually reading for fun and enjoying it.  We had a nice conversation about what I read for fun, and I recommended some books for him.  It just gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Peppergal, that is SO AWESOME. Thanks for sharing.

[galactic_hedgehog]

a brief excerpt detailing a young child's first experience with an electric light bulb in the 1870s

That sounds fascinating.  Can you provide a reference?

[drmooks]

a brief excerpt detailing a young child's first experience with an electric light bulb in the 1870s

That sounds fascinating.  Can you provide a reference?

I've posted a link down below.  It is from the German Historical Institute's Documents & Images collection and is taken from a memoir written by a German cultural historian in the 1970s.  I - much like my students - enjoyed the sense of awe and "unpleasant brightness" of homes with electric light bulbs.  Apparently, no one wanted to hide them behind lamp shades.  As an added bonus, the excerpt also includes one of his first encounters with a telephone.

http://germanhistorydocs.ghi-dc.org/sub_document.cfm?document_id=479

[galactic_hedgehog]

Thanks!

[changinggears]

One year, while teaching freshman comp, I asked my students on the first day of class to write down some genres that they read for fun (i.e. not school-related).  One student wrote, "Honestly, I have never read anything for fun in my life.  I hate to read."

Three weeks later, he came bouncing into class looking extremely enthusiastic about something.  We had just started a new novel (I had assigned the first three chapters), and I started with my usual question about first impressions.  The non-reader student raised his hand, and before I even finished saying his name burst out with, "This is the greatest thing I have ever read.  I haven't slept for two days and I skipped my physics class because I had to finish it, even though you only assigned the first three chapters and I just couldn't put it down!"  The rest of the class laughed a little, but it started a really good discussion about why the novel was so compelling, how it grabbed their attention (it turned out that they had all read ahead), etc.

Six months later I ran into that same student browsing in a local bookstore.  He told me that I had changed his life, and that since my class he was actually reading for fun and enjoying it.  We had a nice conversation about what I read for fun, and I recommended some books for him.  It just gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling.

What was the novel?  Sounds like one I need to add to my reading list!

[secretweapon]

I had a student in tears a few weeks ago.  I had given her a (possibly generous) C on her first essay.  I told her that her writing was not really up to standard.  She said, "Everyone always says that, but if I knew what I had to do I would do it."  Okay.  We talked, I explained her mistakes, she listened, and I sent her away with a handout and grammar websites to check out. 

Her next essay?  B+!  I'm so excited and happy for her.  She's really worked hard.  I feel that I might actually make a difference sometimes, and not just blather on about nothing all the time.

[llanfair]

I had a student in tears a few weeks ago.  I had given her a (possibly generous) C on her first essay.  I told her that her writing was not really up to standard.  She said, "Everyone always says that, but if I knew what I had to do I would do it."  Okay.  We talked, I explained her mistakes, she listened, and I sent her away with a handout and grammar websites to check out. 

Her next essay?  B+!  I'm so excited and happy for her.  She's really worked hard.  I feel that I might actually make a difference sometimes, and not just blather on about nothing all the time.

SW, can you PM me the links for those sites? I have a few such writers.

[marigolds]

I had a student in tears a few weeks ago.  I had given her a (possibly generous) C on her first essay.  I told her that her writing was not really up to standard.  She said, "Everyone always says that, but if I knew what I had to do I would do it."  Okay.  We talked, I explained her mistakes, she listened, and I sent her away with a handout and grammar websites to check out. 

Her next essay?  B+!  I'm so excited and happy for her.  She's really worked hard.  I feel that I might actually make a difference sometimes, and not just blather on about nothing all the time.

SW, can you PM me the links for those sites? I have a few such writers.

Ooh, post them here so we can all benefit!  (I like the exercises on www.chompchomp.com so far, but am always open for more!)

And SW, isn't that a marvelous feeling?  You're helping her succeed in the rest of her life, not just in your class! 

[cgfunmathguy]

I have two, both of which are from previous institutions.

First Victory (from GradSchool)
I had a student walk into class late one day as we were working on percent problems. She groaned.

Me: What's wrong.
Her: I can't do percents.

I went on with class. The last "non-word-problem" example was "What is 20% of 42?". She couldn't do it, but everyone else got it. I made a mental note to have her come to office hours, which she would if I invited her.

The first word problem was "A blouse that normally sells for $42 is on sale for 20% off. What is the sale price?". I hardly had the question out of my mouth and hadn't finished writing it when Miss I-can't-do-percents says "$33.60." I turned around from the board (the question still wasn't fully written) with my mouth hanging open, causing several students to laugh.

Me (incredulously): You told me you couldn't do percents.
Her (nonchalantly): Honey, you take me shopping, and I can do anything.
Me (still stunned): Well, then, that's how you need to approach percent problems.

Care to guess who got her first A on a percent test in her LIFE? That's right, Miss I-can't-do-percents. The confidence that carried over from this allowed her to see she could do mathematics.


Second Victory (from LastJob)
An entire class had BOMBED one of my exams. I knew that these students had all worked pretty hard on this stuff; so, I assigned test corrections. These require the student to re-work the problem, explain the mistake s/he made, explain how to do the problem correctly, and give the correct answer. Completing all of these steps properly was rewarded by giving back half of the points missed for that particular question.

I was grading the corrections and came across a note (paraphrased below) from one student who had been struggling very badly in this class.

"Dear Professor Mathguy,

I know that you made this assignment to the whole class, but it felt like you made it just for me. I haven't been very good at math in school, and I've really struggled to understand this class after doing well in your class last semester. However, with this assignment, I think I get it, and you have really helped me see how to understand the material. (Some ego-boosting platitudes) Thank you very much."

At the bottom of her note, I wrote "You are very welcome." and returned it with her work.

At the end of the semester, the class purchased a gift certificate for me because they knew they wouldn't have me again any time soon and wanted to thank me as a group. They had a bag for a gift, but then decided on a gift certificate instead. Inside the bag, which was still folded flat and had several "thank yous" on it, was the note, attached to a piece of cardstock and laminated. I still tear up when I remember it, and I found it while unpacking another office box last week.