It starts when you notice the local construction projects winding down. Then you’re cut off by a Ford Escape with New Jersey plates and a back full of clothes, books, a pink rug, and one of those chairs made solely of bungee cords. That’s right, it’s back to school season.
Abby and I met to for a pre-season re-vamp of Oh No and you can look forward to two posts a week this year — Mondays and Thursdays. We’re trimming a bit because those Friday posts came upon us awful fast and we want to keep this thing valuable. So without further adieu…
I met with a colleague from across campus this week. She works for a newer (and smaller) office just starting to wrap its mind around how to capture its value to the students it serves. The office focuses on developing an entrepreneurial mindset in our students and supporting student ideas from conceptualization to implementation. To further complicate its assessment process, the office is not yet on permanent funding, thus is under pressure to justify its existence.
I’ve already covered starting over in my Zero to Assessment post, however this conversation yielded a few new questions I wanted to chew on a bit.
What if I don’t know what students are learning from this experience? In the old, dusty textbooks of assessment you’ll find a flow chart looking something like this…
oh, well hello smart art…
This flow chart is helpful if you have clear and measurable learning outcomes, but leaves out instructions for when your outcomes are a bit cloudy. My colleague proposed measuring this through a series of qualitative questions — which, despite my aversion to the labor intensive nature of properly analyzing qualitative questions, seemed appropriate given the situation. And you know what, old dusty textbook I made up to illustrate my point, if an office centered around innovation can’t build a plane while they’re flying it, can any office? That is, if we can’t get an initiative started until we have every detail (e.g., assessment) ironed out, we’ll be missing out on a good number of valuable initiatives.
While I’m complaining about the rigidity of fictitious textbooks, it’s worth acknowledging that neither her nor I was all too sure of how she would analyze the data she’s collecting. It would be great if she had the labor to code each response, but that doesn’t seem likely. I think this is okay. It takes a few cycles to get an assessment process ironed out. Even by simply reading through the responses, she’ll get a feel of what her students are learning and how to better support them.
How do I get students to reply to my surveys? If I ever figure this out, I’m leaving the profession of higher education to hang out with the inventor of stick it notes on an island covered in boats, flat screen TVs, and Tesla convertibles. And, I guess, charging stations for the convertibles.
Very few people know how to do this well, however I’ve come across a few strategies which seem to be working.
-Make it personal. More than half of my job is forming relationships with students. Surveys are one of the times I leverage those relationships. I’ll often send the survey link in an e-mail noting (very briefly) the importance of the data collected in this survey, letting them know that every response is a favor to me (for all of the time I spend e-mailing them with answers to questions I’ve already answered in previous e-mails, this is the least they could do). If you’re sending a survey out to thousands, you can expect a very low return rate.
-Get ‘em while they’re captive. Do you have advising meetings with students at the start of these programs? is there an application to get into your program? Can you (easily) tie in the survey as a requirement for completing the program? I don’t mean to hint that surveys are the only means of collecting assessment data — but they’re direct, effective, and tend to be less labor intensive than other means.
Countdown to College football: 3 DAYS!