From: The Chronicle of Higher Education

INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY

Friday, February 13, 1998


Students Dislike Va. Tech Math Classes
in Which Computers Do Much of the Teaching

By JEFFREY R. YOUNG

BLACKSBURG, VA.

Word on the campus here is that Virginia Tech has built the Wal-Mart of mathematics instruction.

The university transformed the former Roses discount department store near the campus into one of the country's largest classrooms. About 250 networked computers now sit where racks of clothing, sporting goods, and snack foods once reigned. The university plans to increase the number of computers to 500 by the end of the year.

Virginia Tech administrators say it took a building this size to contain their latest experiment in computer-assisted teaching. In a few introductory-level mathematics courses this year, the university is letting computers do much of the basic teaching. The courses offer interactive tutorials, CD-ROMs, lectures by the department's best teachers, and on-line examinations. Professors now roam what used to be a sales floor, helping students who need individual attention. The lab facility -- which has already cost more than $2-million -- is being paid for as part of the university's Faculty Development Initiative, which aims to help professors integrate computers into their teaching.

But many students aren't buying into the idea, despite a hard sell by the university. They're e-mailing complaints to professors and grumbling that they'd rather learn from a human being. Some professors say they're not thrilled by the idea themselves. But they're faced with a difficult equation: how to teach more students with the same number of faculty members.

In fact, many people here say, the new system is actually doing a better job of teaching students math than did the lecture-driven format. Failure rates have fallen slightly since the courses moved out of the classroom and into the lab, they point out. Professors say they now spend more time doing one-on-one teaching. And students can go at their own pace.

"I truthfully believe this is a better way of teaching students," says Robert F. Olin, chairman of the mathematics department. Only two courses are the focus of the experimental teaching model this year -- linear algebra and pre-calculus -- but together they enroll a whopping 3,500 students. Instead of coming to class at a set time, they take most of the course on computers whenever they wish.

Open 24 Hours a Day

Students are required to spend at least three hours a week in the classroom (below), known as the Math Emporium, which is open 24 hours a day. Faculty members or graduate students are on hand from 9 a.m. to midnight, Monday through Thursday, and part of the day on Friday and Sunday. The classroom is in a shopping mall about a 20-minute walk from the center of the campus, and a local bus passes by every 15 minutes or so.

Students sign in at the front desk, and each is assigned a computer to work on. They're expected to start with on-line tutorials developed by faculty members. Each also has a printed textbook and a set of CD-ROMs that contain recordings of lectures by the department's best teachers.

Many students, however, steer straight for the on-line quizzes to see what they will be tested on, professors report. Students can take some of the quizzes as many as three times each, an allowance that professors hope will encourage them to learn the material more completely than they would in a traditional course.

In the pre-calculus course, each student also attends a "focus group" meeting in a traditional classroom once a week. Most focus groups include about 30 students and are run by graduate teaching assistants. The sessions are designed to handle logistical questions and to help students who are stuck on problems.

In the linear-algebra course, traditional lectures are offered, but they are optional. The lectures are repeated several times each week, but only about a third of the students choose to attend.

Professors who once taught such courses with chalk in their hands now walk around the giant classroom with name tags strung around their necks. They watch for students to signal for help by putting folded index cards or plastic cups on top of their computer monitors. At scheduled times, students can also head for a "coach's corner," where they can ask graduate students or professors to explain concepts.

"We can give more personal attention than we can in the classroom," says Frank Quinn, a mathematics professor who now does his teaching in the Math Emporium. Instead of lecturing to a room full of bored, passive students, he says, he now works with students one on one. "It's a wonderfully rewarding experience."

Changing the Professor's Role

But that experience represents a fundamental change in the professor's role, a change that has made some faculty members uncomfortable, says Monte Boisen, a mathematics professor. He says professors are used to being able to brush up on a concept right before lecturing about it, so that they always get to be the "big hero." Now, however, they must be prepared for any question at any time. "I have heard people scrambling," says Dr. Boisen. "They say, 'I was embarrassed last night'" because they had to look up concepts while helping students.

Dr. Quinn says some professors worry that the program relies too heavily on computers. "There's lots of opposition to it in the university," he acknowledges.

But others in the math department say the idea has not been that controversial, because growing class sizes have made it difficult to teach with traditional methods.

"The preference I have is to meet small groups of students with a piece of chalk in my hand," says Christopher A. Beattie, an associate professor of mathematics. "At a university this size" -- Virginia Tech has 25,000 students -- "you don't have that possibility in lower-division classes." He thinks the "emporium" model is worth a try.

Dr. Beattie says he hopes that the new model might also help meet another challenge -- the anxiety that many students feel over mathematics. "Most of the students who are in math courses do not want to be in math courses. It's difficult to get students really engaged. They will be, at best, glassy-eyed, or, at worst, asleep. What we're doing in the Math Emporium is to put math in their face."

After about six months, many students still aren't sold on the new method. "I think I work better having a teacher and having them explain it," says Nicki Nichols, a freshman in the pre-calculus course. "It gets kind of boring just sitting in front of a computer screen." Other students complain that they feel "ripped off" by the university.

Dr. Olin, the department chairman, says it's only natural that students would resist the change. "They haven't had mathematics like this before," he says. They'd rather "sit back and let it come to them."

In the emporium model, he says, students have to seek out information actively. "Isn't that the college's job -- to show them how to teach themselves?"

And, he says, students who prefer traditional teaching can take advantage of the other options, including lectures and coaching. "There's an army of support out there to help students through their work," Dr. Olin says. The emporium courses, he argues, are an improvement over traditional lecture-based courses, which offer only one style of instruction.

Professors at other universities have expressed worry that teaching programs in which computers are substituted for instructors will eventually lead to layoffs of faculty members. Some professors at Virginia Tech say that that is not a concern now but could become one in the long term.

Many here point out, however, that the new model still relies heavily on professors to do the things they've always done -- working with students and designing courses.

Dr. Beattie adds that many disciplines are making more use of technology, increasing the demand for math skills across the university curriculum. "The load is on us to teach them more effectively."

But the emporium shouldn't be used as a one-stop shopping center for all math courses, many here say. Those aisles, they argue, should be patronized only by university customers needing the most-basic supplies of knowledge. Other students, they say, should continue to learn as they always have -- not in a store, but in the classroom.

Copyright(c) 1998 by The Chronicle of Higher Education. Posted with permission on http://www.trincoll.edu/~acad/ltp. This article may not be published, reposted, or distributed without permission from The Chronicle.