Apologies for the long delay in posting, but seeing how this is the 200th post, I wanted to make sure I had something interesting and substantial. The following has been bubbling around in my mind for some time now, and I felt like I needed the last piece of the puzzle to bring it all together. I found that last piece of the puzzle on (of all places) American Idol last week. Here goes:
Item 1: A student approached me, unhappy because she failed aural skills. This student was not in my class; she approached me in my role as undergraduate theory coordinator after speaking with her instructor. According to the student, she did well on the sightsinging and dictation quizzes all semester long, but didn't turn in any homework. Homework represents (if I recall) 10% of the final grade, but we have a clause in our syllabus that students must earn at least 70% on the homework portion of the grade or they will fail the class, regardless of their performance in other areas. Now, regardless of whether or not that policy is fair, it is in the syllabus, which is given to every student on the first day of class. She felt that she was entitled to pass the class--that this particular rule should not apply to her, even though it applies to everyone else--because she could do the sightsinging and dictation and that is the point of the class.
Item 2: Watching the audition weeks of American Idol. In one city (I forget which one) a young man is shown making the long elevator ride down to the lobby after an unsuccessful audition. He is in tears, and sobs "I just wanted this so badly."
Item 3: Last week on American Idol, one of the contests, Siobhan Magnus, was being profiled before she sang. When she talked about winning a spot in the top 24, she made some comment to the effect of "I just wanted to show them how passionate about music I am."
Item 4: A passage from a book I read quite some time ago called SHAM: How the self-help movement made America helpless. The passage that comes to mind is the epigraph(s) to chapter 5:
All of these situations seem to imply that belief in something (or desire for something) is the key to success. In the case of Item 1, the student failed because she didn't do the work. In the case of Item 2, the gentleman didn't move on to the next round because he was not a very good singer. Same with Item 3: Ms. Magnus did not advance because she was passionate about singing (or more passionate about singing than the next person). In the case of Item 4, the distinction between the quotations comes from the younger player suggesting that Bonds gets whatever he wants; the older player (i.e., from the previous generation) is pointing to objective criteria that make Bonds the superior player (well, and there are the steroids, but that's another story for another day).
If passion for singing was the only criteria for success, then this guy would be a mega-star:
People seem to have stopped taking responsibility for their actions, shifting the blame towards others in a fairly passive-aggressive sort of way. The reason the violinist wins the section position in the orchestra is because she is a better violinist than the others: she has practiced longer and more thoughtfully, presumably had a better education, was more well-rested, or any number of measurable criteria. To suggest she wanted it more than the others is to suggest (as SHAM's author argues) that the other people showed up not caring whether they got the position or not. Clearly this is not true.
I wish I had solutions for this problem: it is amazingly widespread (all you need to do is watch people drive in Lubbock!) I'm sure that motivation is a key to getting at the root of this problem. Understanding what motivates people, and how to motivate people, could allow us to reshape the sorts of feedback we give as teachers (coaches, bosses, whatever), and the sorts of outcomes and assessments we craft as teachers. I'm sure grade inflation plays into this in academia, and the "participation trophies" that go to everyone--winners and losers alike--are probably responsible. We cannot be afraid of hurting someone's feelings now, because ultimately we are doing our students a service.
As a young teacher, I wanted to be liked by my students, and I wanted everyone to succeed in my classes. I had a very hard time failing students, even when they clearly deserved to fail (i.e., had missed dozens of classes and turned in next to no homework). I even went so far at one point as to offer a "homework amnesty" day, where students could turn in homework from any point at the semester and not be penalized for it. (Talk about a lot of grading--that was easily the first and last time I did that!) It occurred to me, though, that I was doing these students a disservice. I really wanted them to learn and understand music theory, but I did this at the expense of teaching them real-world lessons such as accountability. In most cases, giving a student the grade they deserve provides a valuable lesson. If you don't turn in your homework on time, you pay the consequences. Learn that now, so that when you need to submit that grant report to keep this high school band that you direct afloat, you'll understand the value of submitting things on time. If you don't do well in a jury, use that as a learning experience to determine what you need to do better next time, and focus on those problems. Now, I like to think that I teach more than music to my students.
Work hard and smart and you will reap the rewards. As the saying goes, "Give a man a fish and he eats for a day; teach a man to fish and he will eat for his whole life."
Item 1: A student approached me, unhappy because she failed aural skills. This student was not in my class; she approached me in my role as undergraduate theory coordinator after speaking with her instructor. According to the student, she did well on the sightsinging and dictation quizzes all semester long, but didn't turn in any homework. Homework represents (if I recall) 10% of the final grade, but we have a clause in our syllabus that students must earn at least 70% on the homework portion of the grade or they will fail the class, regardless of their performance in other areas. Now, regardless of whether or not that policy is fair, it is in the syllabus, which is given to every student on the first day of class. She felt that she was entitled to pass the class--that this particular rule should not apply to her, even though it applies to everyone else--because she could do the sightsinging and dictation and that is the point of the class.
Item 2: Watching the audition weeks of American Idol. In one city (I forget which one) a young man is shown making the long elevator ride down to the lobby after an unsuccessful audition. He is in tears, and sobs "I just wanted this so badly."
Item 3: Last week on American Idol, one of the contests, Siobhan Magnus, was being profiled before she sang. When she talked about winning a spot in the top 24, she made some comment to the effect of "I just wanted to show them how passionate about music I am."
Item 4: A passage from a book I read quite some time ago called SHAM: How the self-help movement made America helpless. The passage that comes to mind is the epigraph(s) to chapter 5:
"He's supremely confident. He knows he's going to do what he wants." --Baseball player David Bell, age thirty, explaining what makes former teammate Barry Bonds such a great hitter, in the Morning Call, (Allentown, PA), April 27, 2003.
"He has the best batting I've I've ever seen, and probably the quickest hand to the ball as well. And his upper-body strength is almost superhuman." --Hall of Famer Mike Schmidt, age fifth-three, explaining what makes Bonds so great, quoted later in the same [...] article."
All of these situations seem to imply that belief in something (or desire for something) is the key to success. In the case of Item 1, the student failed because she didn't do the work. In the case of Item 2, the gentleman didn't move on to the next round because he was not a very good singer. Same with Item 3: Ms. Magnus did not advance because she was passionate about singing (or more passionate about singing than the next person). In the case of Item 4, the distinction between the quotations comes from the younger player suggesting that Bonds gets whatever he wants; the older player (i.e., from the previous generation) is pointing to objective criteria that make Bonds the superior player (well, and there are the steroids, but that's another story for another day).
If passion for singing was the only criteria for success, then this guy would be a mega-star:
People seem to have stopped taking responsibility for their actions, shifting the blame towards others in a fairly passive-aggressive sort of way. The reason the violinist wins the section position in the orchestra is because she is a better violinist than the others: she has practiced longer and more thoughtfully, presumably had a better education, was more well-rested, or any number of measurable criteria. To suggest she wanted it more than the others is to suggest (as SHAM's author argues) that the other people showed up not caring whether they got the position or not. Clearly this is not true.
I wish I had solutions for this problem: it is amazingly widespread (all you need to do is watch people drive in Lubbock!) I'm sure that motivation is a key to getting at the root of this problem. Understanding what motivates people, and how to motivate people, could allow us to reshape the sorts of feedback we give as teachers (coaches, bosses, whatever), and the sorts of outcomes and assessments we craft as teachers. I'm sure grade inflation plays into this in academia, and the "participation trophies" that go to everyone--winners and losers alike--are probably responsible. We cannot be afraid of hurting someone's feelings now, because ultimately we are doing our students a service.
As a young teacher, I wanted to be liked by my students, and I wanted everyone to succeed in my classes. I had a very hard time failing students, even when they clearly deserved to fail (i.e., had missed dozens of classes and turned in next to no homework). I even went so far at one point as to offer a "homework amnesty" day, where students could turn in homework from any point at the semester and not be penalized for it. (Talk about a lot of grading--that was easily the first and last time I did that!) It occurred to me, though, that I was doing these students a disservice. I really wanted them to learn and understand music theory, but I did this at the expense of teaching them real-world lessons such as accountability. In most cases, giving a student the grade they deserve provides a valuable lesson. If you don't turn in your homework on time, you pay the consequences. Learn that now, so that when you need to submit that grant report to keep this high school band that you direct afloat, you'll understand the value of submitting things on time. If you don't do well in a jury, use that as a learning experience to determine what you need to do better next time, and focus on those problems. Now, I like to think that I teach more than music to my students.
Work hard and smart and you will reap the rewards. As the saying goes, "Give a man a fish and he eats for a day; teach a man to fish and he will eat for his whole life."