Ask Hillary Garld what she doesn’t like about one of her humanities courses, and she’ll spit it out: the professor. Her reasons come out staccato and scathing. Disorganized. Can’t finish a sentence. Patronizing. Doesn’t care.
“But please don’t use his name,” she says. “I don’t want him to know it’s him.”
That, she hopes, will be revealed in the final grade delivered by the Arts and Science Students’ Union (ASSU). Each year the union publishes the Anti-Calendar, the statistical skinny on over 1,600 courses and the instructors who teach them. Compiled from the anonymous course evaluations filled out by undergraduates at the end of every course, the Anti-Calendar adds up to a candid reflection of the quality of teaching at U of T.
So far things look good—most instructors are rated as such. Some are rated excellent. And some suck. Steering clear of the latter may become difficult, though, as U of T increasingly touts itself as being focused more on research than on undergraduate teaching.
Kanna Sriskanthan, vice-president of the Undergraduate Finance Association, says she decided not to take Introduction to Business Information Systems (MGT371H) because of its poor Anti-Calendar ratings.
“Several students complained of the course. My recollection is that the professor is very subjective in his grading, and the lack of a textbook makes the course even harder. I also heard that most of his lecture discussions are irrelevant for the exams,” she says.
MGT371H has been rated one of the worst courses at U of T for the past four years. During that time it’s been taught by Prof. Len Fertuck. Last year the course was taught in both the fall and winter sessions in five different lecture sections.
Students complained course material was irrelevant, the grading scheme unfair, and Fertuck was poor or adequate in his enthusiasm and ability to communicate concepts clearly. An alarming average of 77 per cent of students would not have taken his course again.
“The course does have a bad reputation,” admits Fertuck, who says he doesn’t know why the dropout rate in his course this year is especially high. He says he has tried hard to figure out why students don’t like the course. He thinks it’s perhaps the experimental delivery of the course material, which is almost entirely on-line. He has used this approach for the past three years because the technology of business information systems changes so rapidly.
“There’s also a large diversity of students I have to teach, [including] everyone from know-it-all programmers to people who don’t know how to program their VCR,” he says.
This wide range of learning curves makes it difficult to accommodate everyone. Plus, many accounting students for whom the course is mandatory are more used to number-crunching content, which this course doesn’t have.
But, he admits, “[Students] may be unhappy with the professor for all I know.” He says complaints that he’s unapproachable are untrue. “For reasons I have never been able to fathom, students are timid about approaching me and raising their complaints…I have encouraged them to get in touch with me by e-mail or telephone, as this is an electronic systems course.”
He realizes too much time was spent on group presentations last year (more than half the course time), but this year he says it’s been changed to less than half.
“I like the material. I’m interested in it. On the other hand, I wonder how much I can do.”
What does he think makes a good professor? “It’s hard to figure out what makes a good professor. There are many who have qualities that are not necessarily shared amongst them,” he says.
Carl Amrhein, Dean of Arts and Science, says for a professor to be hired there has to be substantial evidence of teaching experience.
“There is an equal assessment of teaching and research,” he says. “A professor’s workload is 40 per cent teaching, 40 per cent research and 20 per cent other duties…Once you’re tenured, we fire very, very few people. Is it possible? Yes. Possible, but not likely at all.”
Paul Gries is at no risk of that. He’s a lecturer in the department of computer science, and his reputation precedes him. Since beginning lecturing in 1998, he has received the Computer Science Students’ Union Award three times for teaching excellence. His first-year courses in programming have been ranked among the highest at U of T. In one of the three courses he taught last year, CSC107H, the majority of students gave Gries the highest marks possible for being organized in presentation, explaining concepts clearly and communicating enthusiasm. In another of his courses, 73 percent said they would have still taken the course if given the choice.
Why does Gries think he’s received so well? “Because I instill enthusiasm in addition to conveying the information,” he says. “I try to let them know that they are part of the process instead of just a receptacle of information.”
Gries says one thing that helps him encourage interaction and make students feel comfortable is a “stupid question session” where students are encouraged to ask questions they might be too embarrassed to ask otherwise. He repeatedly emphasizes no question is really stupid except those that are not asked.
“Normally there are these little hang-ups and if [students] would just ask about them, they would clear the problem up for themselves and who knows how many other classmates.”
Also, during lectures, students are encouraged to interrupt whenever they wish and are encouraged to drop by during office hours if they still feel uncomfortable.
“If they are still confused, then I want to know about it, because then I am doing something wrong. I may share part of the blame and I want to know about it.”
That attitude towards teaching—shouldering the responsibility for a student’s performance—is the real grade of teaching.
