Trudy Abramson
A pipe dream is a delusion brought about by the smoking of opium, an illusory or fantastic plan, hope or story. This editorial will address several: Standards in higher education, altruistic partnerships across the grades, and consumers of learning a.k.a. wisdom by the pound.
The Johnson Foundation convened 16 noted individuals for a series of meetings to examine the questions “What does society need from higher education?” The outcome of these meetings was published as the Wingspread report (1993) and is available online (http://www.johnsonfdn.org/library/foundpub/amerimp/hiexp.html). A most significant conclusion was that establishing higher expectations requires that students and parents rethink what too many seem to want from education: The credential without the content, the degree without the knowledge and effort it implies. The simple fact is that some faculties and institutions certify for graduation too many students who cannot read and write very well, too many whose intellectual depth and breadth are unimpressive, and too many whose skills are inadequate in the face of the demands of contemporary life.
Thirunarayanan (2001) observed that distance-learning grades are even more inflated than are grades earned in traditional programs and that distance-learning degrees are of dubious quality. He offered no research to substantiate his remarks. The director of institutional research at one of my prior jobs, at about the same time the Wingspread report was issued, reported that 95% of all grades earned in graduate schools of education were either A or A-. It is quite a challenge to be more inflated than that.
Professors Ted and Trudy Abramson are but two academics who are unwilling victims of the system that allows adult students to reach our classes under-prepared. Our standards for evaluation of written work in our graduate courses are elementary. Papers need to be grammatical, spell-checked, meaningfully organized, and content-rich. In addition, judgment needs to be exercised in the selection of resources and style guidelines must be observed.
Every term, for more than two decades, Ted has received a message that says: I have completed 24 credits toward my masters program with a 4.0 GPA. No one has ever suggested before that I cannot write. According to your remarks, I have done nothing correctly. How can this be? His reply to the student is to take the annotations one at a time and let him know which, if any, is inaccurate. Many of his students persevere and learn to research and write under his guidance. They could have done so earlier if other teachers and professors had invested the time and effort and had been brave enough to confront the student/consumer.
My students have completed masters programs in the United States and abroad with minimum GPAs of 3.5. Each of these people has, therefore, been led to believe that he has been adequately prepared for graduate level writing. Documents submitted in partial fulfillment of course requirements are expected to follow the guidelines for publication of this journal. See the last page for specifics. Readers, just imagine the psychological shock of having one’s work returned with specific comments of no content, lack of organization, poor selection of resources, and poor grammar. Fine, serious students ask: How is it possible that I have gotten this far thinking I have skills that I obviously do not? The answer lies in the Wingspread (1993) report cited above. Far too many potentially good learners have been fooled by a school system that accommodated consumers who were buying product, not opportunity.
School budgets cannot accommodate hardware, software, networks and personnel training needed to support successful technology based learning. To fill the void, altruistic industry partners generously provide substantial amounts of expensive equipment tied to industry-created prescribed curricula as gestures of good will and in the name of raising the educational level of students. If you believe this, you must be smoking the old pipe again. What is wrong with having students obtain certification from industry partners? Is it not good for them to be prepared for jobs in today’s workplace? To the small minority of us who truly believe in quality learning and an educated (not trained) citizenry, it is wrong, destructive and deceptive.
Short training programs, billed as such, that give students an immediate advantage in the workplace are wonderful. For example, Miami-Dade Community College in Florida offers a 15-hour program that costs $150 and prepares the learner to be a Microsoft Office User Specialist (MOUS). This two-day investment is not expensive and it does not promise to do more than to help the learner acquire proficiency with a much-used toolset in today’s workplace and it does not replace a college course.
Long programs that usurp 18 or more credits of community college or four-year college education are another matter entirely. The technology on which the student is trained is likely to be obsolete upon graduation. Then the graduate has very little – an incomplete education and no saleable skill, per se. When the economy is growing and jobs exceed candidates, it is difficult to see the immediate fraud we are allowing to be perpetrated. However, in days of shrinking budgets and jobs, industrial interests masked as altruism become increasingly visible.
When did students become consumers? When did opportunity become entitlement? When did students who fail begin to hire lawyers to sue schools, colleges and universities? The mindset for acquiring learning has become identical to that of buying oranges. A student steps up to the registrar’s office and purchases two pounds of English literature of the nineteenth century. When it turns out that said student (consumer) does not understand the readings and cannot write a critical analysis, the college must be at fault. After all, is a bad grade really any different than a blemished orange? If blemished oranges may be returned for a refund, why not the failed courses? Here are some of the reasons the student/consumer may believe he is entitled to his money back and even some additional compensation for engendering a negative self-image:
To add insult to injury, the professor required that students contribute meaningfully to discussions during the term. This student had a learning style that required him to sit quietly and absorb the conversation around him. He is the consumer. He is paying to listen to the professor, not to have to contribute to the dialogue. Give him a refund; chastise the professor who did not recognize that the customer is always right.
Following is a scenario took place about a decade ago. I was teaching in a masters concentration in educational technology at a state college. For each course, teachers came to class once a week for 150 minutes late in the afternoon. The goals of my educational technology courses were to empower teachers to use different technology tools with their classes to enhance learning. The format was:
One day, I received a summons from the dean. A student had complained that she comes to the college after a hard day at work and is unwilling to do more than sit politely. She maintained that it was her responsibility to show up and take notes and it was my job to teach. This was the procedure other professors followed in her previous courses and I had the temerity to insist that she and her peers do my work. She resented being required to learn actively something very useful and almost immediately usable. This college graduate, a classroom teacher with a background in learning theory and instructional development, sincerely believed that she could be talked into mastery of technology skills and use of these skills within her curriculum. The dean grilled me extensively on the wisdom of my ways and the need to rock the boat but I valiantly held my ground. My only suggestion was to advise the student that she no longer enroll in educational technology courses. Learning is an active process. It is not a product for sale by the pound or even by the unit.
The Emperor Has No Clothes
Here is the most frequently recurring pipe dream of all. A student progresses through the grades being entertained and complimented for nothing substantial: I am special; I am me! (Grammatically, it should be I but who cares about grammar any more? A school district – to remain unnamed – posted this mantra above the chalkboard in every primary classroom.) Along the way, the student is awarded a high school diploma, a baccalaureate degree and even a post-graduate degree. His major investment was attendance. He enters the world of work and achieves great success and wealth. This is a fantasy that should only be subscribed to when one is under the influence of a mind-altering substance.
We, the academics whose integrity precludes peddling pipe dreams, cannot subscribe to the concept of students as purchasers of learning. If students are consumers, schools must be retail establishments and teachers and professors, customer service representatives. Even tuition paying students are not consumers; ours is a different kind of marketplace. When we participate in pipe dreams, everyone loses.
References
Thirunarayanan, M. O. (2001). Higher education’s newest blight: Degree inflation. On Campus, 21(2), p. 14.
Wingspread Group on Higher Education. (1993). An American Imperative: Higher expectations for higher education. Racine, WI: The Johnson Foundation, Inc.