PATHWAYS TO ACADEMIC EXCELLENCE
Loch K. Johnson
Regents Professor of Political Science
Josiah Meigs Distinguished Teaching Professor
Keynote Address
2006 Academic Affairs Faculty Symposium
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Dear colleagues, it is a high honor for me to have this chance to share some thoughts with
you on the subject before this symposium: achieving academic excellence. I begin with this
thesis: most students at the University of Georgia want to be challenged. They will respond
positively to faculty who set high standards and demand that they take their academic
responsibilities seriously.
Preparing for a Competitive World
One would hope our students would seek knowledge and understanding for its own sake.
There is, though, another important reason for us to challenge them: we at the University of
Georgia— students, faculty, administrators—are in competition every day with other universities
around the nation. We are judged by outsiders all the time, with the annual evaluations in U.S.
News & World Report only one of many measures. We compete for limited journal space,
research money from the government and private foundations, outstanding high school students,
and national titles in a range of athletic endeavors. The competition that concerns me most,
though, is the one our students face when they depart from our leafy glades.
Probably few students pause to consider the fierce competition they face for the nation’s
top starting jobs in science, government, finance, and the arts. But there is not one day when I
enter the classroom that I don’t think to myself: how can I help Georgia students be more
competitive? This is one essential meaning of academic rigor: the preparation of our graduates to
go head-to-head with any peer group in the nation.
We have some portentous rivals. Yet, having just spent a term teaching at Yale, I am
convinced that our very best students—our Foundation Fellows and a number of our Honors
students—are as talented as those who attend the Ivies. Indeed, some of our students these days
have turned down acceptances there in favor of a Foundation Fellowship.
So we have impressive raw materials on campus, and even those students who are not
enrolled in the more prestigious academic programs at Georgia have scholarly credentials from
high school that make them competitive for admission at other major universities. Based on their
high school and SAT performance, they deserve to be treated with intellectual respect, which
translates into expecting strong academic accomplishments from them.
I can guarantee you one thing: the students I taught at Yale are not resting on their laurels.
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They are focused on success each day, constantly seeking out information about internship
opportunities and study-abroad programs; attending campus lectures by visiting notables; coming
to class prepared; plunging into a wide range of extracurricular activities. Sometimes, though,
they do emphasize career planning to a fault. There is a joke about the well-rounded Yale
student: someone who can roll easily from New Haven to Wall Street. For the most part,
however, I found them imbued with an admirable intellectual curiosity, a fearlessness in the
classroom, and a spirited commitment to public service— precisely the traits I would hope for at
Georgia, and often see, among our finest students.
Now, how does one encourage this level of engagement and achievement at our
institution? That is the central question before us at this Symposium. I return to my thesis: it is
up to us to challenge our students. Most of them will reject the culture of low expectations
that has haunted us in the past. They will be pleased by our confidence in them, and our desire to
see them prevail in the competition with students at other worthy institutions.
I recently had an impromptu talk with a physics professor on our campus. “When
students come to my class,” he said, “I tell them: ‘I didn’t ask you to become a physics major, but
if that is your desire, then I want you to be one of the best physics students in the country.” He
assigns them readings and handouts that match the rigor of anything at Harvard or Princeton; he
gives them weekly computational assignments; he encourages them to study all the math a
successful physics scholar must know. He will not tolerate the skipping of classes. At the same
time, he is not a tyrant. He works hard to have a cordial relationship with his students, learning
all their names (even in classes with 150 students), spending extra time with those who are
having trouble with the work, and laboriously marking up their weekly assignments.
“College is a serious enterprise,” he argues. “I expect my students to treat their classroom
assignments just as they would an important job.” He does not give make-up exams, except in
the case of a medical emergency. Even then, the make-up is an oral exam administered by him.
In thirty years, no one has taken him up on that option.
Of course, physics and other science professors may have a certain advantage. It is
unlikely that slackers will seek out such courses; missing a class or two in math, for example, can
put one hopelessly behind. Nonetheless, there is no reason why all classes at the University
shouldn’t have similar levels of expectation.
Presently, our absentee rates are alarming. At Amherst College in Massachusetts,
students have calculated how much they pay per class meeting with their high tuition costs—
some $200 a session per student. In light of this sobering outlay, they religiously attend classes,
mindful of their parents’s investment. Students at the University of Georgia also pay good
money for tuition and expenses, even with the Hope Scholarship, and should likewise seek a
good return on their investment. Those unwise enough to appreciate this fact should make way
for students with the maturity to understand the value of a dollar and a meaningful education.
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So one of the first things we can do to improve academic standards at the University of
Georgia is to reverse the rising tide of absenteeism. The principle should be: if you don’t come
to class on a regular basis, you are no longer a member of the class. While this rule of thumb is
followed already in most upper-division classes and certainly in graduate seminars, it is
sometimes ignored in lower-division and especially introductory classes. As a result, beginning
students start off on the wrong foot at the gateway to their academic journey.
Woody Allen once observed that “half of life is just showing up.” It is hard to instill
academic rigor in the classroom when our students are still lying in bed or on the quad
contemplating the circular motion of Frisbees.
General Education Reform
What else can be done? The Dunn-Morehead Report is full of important ideas about
enhancing academic rigor. Here are a few of my favorites.
·
tenured and tenure-track faculty should teach more undergraduates in the first
and second years of study.
I would argue that such experience is indispensable for improving one’s own teaching at
any level. To instruct first- and second-years students successfully, the lessons must be
especially clear and have a tincture of humor now and then. The instructor must be
approachable, and have the ability to relate the classroom material to the student’s own life.
These are all useful skills to practice for our own professional presentations.
Moreover, the perspective of a senior professor in an introductory class can be
particularly valuable to students, providing an overview of the discipline not yet developed by
younger faculty. No major teaching award should be bestowed upon anyone who has failed to
participate successfully in a range of teaching venues, from the graduate seminar to (especially)
the large introductory class.
·
incorporate significant writing assignments into more courses.
The more students write, the better writers they become. Few of our students have
authored scholarly works before they arrive on campus, and almost none a lengthy research
paper. No course on campus should be without some kind of writing assignment. Further,
these papers should be meticulously graded, with extensive red-ink corrections in the margins
and demands for a revision and resubmission. For many years, I marked up papers at the end of a
term and students never came by to examine the comments; now I set earlier deadlines, so they
will have time to discuss their papers with me and make revisions before the term expires.
The greatest deterrent to writing assignments, and the most conspicuous failure of
rigorous education at the University of Georgia, has been the upward spiral of undergraduate
enrollments in our classes. When I first came to Georgia twenty-seven years ago, none of my
upper-division classes had more than 25-28 students; now that figure is inevitably 45-50—or, for
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the soft-hearted, much higher. This situation makes the marking of papers a more daunting task.
Yet, even as we continue to press for lower classroom enrollments, it remains incumbent upon
us to have writing assignments and carefully grade the products.
What struck me most as a Visiting Fellow at Oxford University, in 2003, was the time
and effort that dons put into evaluating papers each week. I was stunned by the detail and
helpfulness of the critiques. The student paper became a classroom in itself. Of course, Oxford
dons have far fewer pupils than we do—again, the acute problem of oversized class enrollments
at our University.
·
establish the expectation that graduating students will be able to communicate
effectively in a second language . . . . continue to develop and expand
international education opportunities . . .
Let me sum up the importance of these recommendations in a single word: globalization.
The United States, the world’s sole superpower, is linguistically challenged. Here the DunnMorehead Report doesn’t go far enough. We will never achieve the goal of widespread
foreign language fluency until our students, a least a large number of them, spend an entire
year overseas, studying the language, history, and culture of other nations.
·
faculty should include in their classes, where appropriate, formal oral
presentations . . . .
The experienced writer is only half a person; our students must be experienced oral
advocates, as well. One thing I noticed above all about Yale students is that they are much more
aggressive in the classroom than ours tend to be. I think we all appreciate the concept of
Southern politeness, in contrast to the behavior one often sees in the shops and subways of New
York City; northeastern aggressiveness has its down side. Nevertheless, our students must
become better equipped at oral argument, and the classroom is a good place to hone these skills.
Even in the sciences, students should be expected to report orally in class; after all, scientists
present their research in public forums and need the practice, too.
In my classes, we conduct “murder boards,” a State Department invention. Organized
into task forces, groups of students will present their research findings orally, with constant
questioning by other students on a “murder board” as the presentation unfolds. The philosophy
is: better to be “murdered” by your friends in these practice sessions, designed to weed out errors
and weaknesses, than by the Secretary of State later on.
The legendary teacher Jacob Neusner has said, “Great teachers don’t teach. They help
students learn. Students teach themselves.” I am always amazed at the good work students will
do when they are organized into task forces, given a problem to solve on their own, and asked to
present their findings to the rest of the class—in coat-and-tie and nice dresses, no less, just as if
they were briefing the President or the Secretary of State.
·
faculty should include, when possible, class opportunities for collaborative
learning.
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Much of what we undertake in academe, we do as individuals; yet, much of the rest of the
world relies on committees, research groups, and consulting teams to achieve goals. This means
cooperating with others. Our classes only seldom attempt to refine these skills—a disservice to
our students in preparing them for life beyond campus. Thus, another way to improve the quality
of our education is to require joint student projects.
The Student Learning Environment
Turning to the student learning environment, here are some additional proposals from the
Dunn-Morehead Report that I find especially noteworthy:
·
. . . . improve all campus facilities . . . . improve the instructional environment in
classrooms by installing modern technology.
We all love the new Student Learning Center. If we only had a few more buildings like
it! This semester I am teaching 45 students in a Fine Arts auditorium meant to seat over 200. It
is an odd fit, lacking in the intimacy that is the virtue of a smaller class. The bottom line: we
need more modern classrooms.
·
. . . . provide rewards for students who participate in cultural events and engage
in leadership activities . . . renew University efforts to attract and publicize
invigorating cultural events and important speakers.
Visiting lectures, symphonic performances, debates, dinner or luncheon seminars—such
activities are vital to a rich intellectual life. At Oxford and at Yale, dinner seminars sponsored by
the universities are a favorite, with a faculty member presenting an argument at the beginning of
dinner, another faculty member (or more) offering a rebuttal, and then discussion and questioning
by students and faculty throughout the rest of the dinner and into the late evening. Not enough of
this takes place at the University of Georgia. The Blue Card approach at Georgia has worked
well and needs to be expanded to a wide variety of out-of-class educational experiences.
·
channel more resources toward hiring additional faculty members . . . .
As I suggested earlier, perhaps nothing is more important to improving the rigor of
education at the University of Georgia than to restore a reasonable faculty-student ratio,
which has eroded dramatically over the past ten years.
Additional Steps
I have skipped over many other reforms proposed in the Dunn-Morehead Report. All
have merit and warrant close study by faculty and adoption by the administration. In some cases,
however, the Task Force failed to go far enough. Here are three illustrations of additional steps
we could take to achieve our common goal of improved academic excellence.
First, we could institute an outright ban on all automobiles for first-year students.
This step would likely engender a stronger sense of community at the University, as well as
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encourage students to concentrate more on their academic pursuits. So, incidentally, would
requiring both first- and second-year students to live in on-campus housing.
Second, we need to address more seriously the issue of grade inflation. I recently
examined the grade distribution in one of our colleges. I discovered that in several classes, over
half the students were receiving “A” grades; some instructors gave the highest grade to 65
percent of the students, and a few even recorded 74 percent and 87 percent “A” grades in classes
with over 45 students. None of these were Honors courses, where a high percentage of excellent
grades may be more justified —although even then I have to wonder about Honors classes where
over 90 percent of the students receive an “A.”
Our best students work hard for an “A” grade; their efforts are devalued when this highest
mark is parceled out indiscriminately, leading to a jaded attitude among our best students about
the University’s system of evaluation. Department heads, faculty committees, and deans need to
review the grading in their units and ensure that high standards are maintained.
Some faculty evidently give out good grades because they think this behavior will reward
them with glowing teaching evaluations by students, thus assisting their tenure portfolio. In my
examination of grading, though, I noticed that the professors who had won teaching awards—the
Meigs, the Russell, and others—tended to be the most demanding graders. The often touted
correlation between easy grades and good teaching evaluations is an urban myth. Of course, one
can go too far in the direction of severe grading. One faculty member in the college gave 44
percent of his class “D” or “F” grades, raising questions in my mind the fairness of his
expectations and how well he was teaching the material.
Third, our campus is still out of kilter in the balance between social life and academics.
The University of Georgia has made the vital decision to move away from its “party school”
image of an earlier era, toward the stance of a serious research-and-teaching university that ranks
among the top tier of public institutions of higher learning. We have made admirable progress in
that direction; but the party image continues to linger, thanks to the behavior of some students.
For those deadbeats who wish to embrace a culture that emphasizes—in an extreme manner—the
social over the academic, there are a number of more suitable institutions where they could
enroll. The University of Georgia should encourage their departure with stricter rules about
inappropriate behavior related to alcohol, drugs, or a dismissive attitude toward classes exhibited
by absenteeism and poor academic performance. At some universities alcohol and drug
violations are tied to a suspension of campus parking privileges and opportunities to study
abroad.
The current rules are too lax. One under-graduate recently told the local newspaper in
Athens: “We’re being babied,” by which the student meant that the University fails to hold
accountable those who drink excessively or otherwise violate campus rules. The student argued
that such individuals should be kicked out of school. While maintaining strict adherence to due
process, that is precisely what we should be doing.
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Even better, let’s try to become wiser about whom we admit. For example, if an
applicant for admission has an unimpressive record of extracurricular activities and service in
high school, what are the chances the student will be productively engaged at the University of
Georgia? We must become more skillful at weeding out the lackadaisical students before they
arrive on our doorstep.
Conclusion
Let me conclude by reminding everyone how far we have come in the past thirty years.
The University of Georgia is already an indisputable leader in higher education. Still, we can do
better. That is why we are gathered here. Do not underestimate the importance of this
symposium. I have seen many a good idea emerge from these discussions and become
University policy. In this regard, I am heartened by the roster for these sessions, which is
definitely an all-star lineup.
This is Cherokee country and the Cherokees have a saying, “A path is made by walking.”
Let’s roll up our sleeves and begin our walk. Together, we can clear new pathways to excellence
in higher education. Thank you.
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Keynote address at 2006 Academic Affairs Faculty Symposium, Unicoi State Park and
Conference Center, Helen, GA. April 14, 15, 2006
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