If we are going to remain relevant in the 21^st century, faculty members will need to incorporate digital technologies into our classes while helping prepare our students to live and work in a digital world.  Otherwise, we risk going the way of Kodak who filed for bankruptcy because they failed to keep up with the digital revolution.

While some faculty members belittle the idea of digital technologies as mere entertainment, the most compelling argument for incorporating them into our courses is good pedagogy.  In a recent class, I did not show Changing Educational Paradigms because it was entertaining—which it is.  I showed this video to my students because in just under twelve minutes it presented complex concepts in an easily accessible manner.

In a lesson on citing evidence, I show Patrick Smith’s Delivery and ask students to speculate on the relationship between the two young men in the film.  Are they brothers? Friends? Roommates? Lovers?  We watch the film, discuss the evidence, watch the film again focusing on the evidence, more discussion, and a final viewing of the film.  Yes, the film is entertaining.  But that is not the point.  It is an effective lesson.

But incorporating digital technologies into the classroom is more than showing films.  For example, a student in my film class began a blog where she will publish the five analyses required for the class.  Because she is writing for a larger audience than her professor and publishing her reviews, experience indicates that she will do a better job on her class assignments.

I believe that one of the main reasons it is difficult for us to integrate digital technologies into our courses is fear of the unknown, fear of the challenge to learn new things, fear of moving out our of comfort zones.  For example, as part of a discussion on “Transmedia Narratives,” Birgit Schneidmueller comments that “I think we as educators have a real opportunity to use contemporary media and transmedia narratives in the classroom. My favorite example is still “Collapsus”, a project that depicts a serious issue (the impending energy crisis) in a way that is also appealing to younger generations.”

Unfortunately, when I went to Collapusus, I don’t know how to interact with the website.  I was at a total loss.  I agree with Schneidmueller that transmedia narratives  such as Collapusus present us with a real opportunity, but I must first get over my fear and ignorance—even it if means asking my students for their help to understand the new media.

Fortunately, we do not need to rush to incorporate digital technologies into our courses.  As Schneidmueller rightly argues, “I think we need to make a slow transition from textbook to transmedia without ever replacing more traditional teaching tools but with adding media that our students embrace and use.”  As professors, we can move forward at a speed that is comfortable for us.

While I argue that we need to push ourselves to incorporate digital technologies into the classroom, we can begin by taking small steps.   Furthermore, students need to be comfortable with the technologies we incorporate into our classes.  Because I expect my students to incorporate so much technology and social media into the class while also taking a non-traditional approach to grading, I now begin discussing my expectations even before the class begins.  By sending a series of e-mails to students enrolled in the course, I help insure that they are not shocked to learn about the technology requirements when they come to the first day of class.

Furthermore, I take my time to incorporate the technologies into the class.  For example, my film student can create her blog during the first week of class even though she is not yet sure how she might use it for the course.  And she was able to accomplish this at a point that was comfortable for her.  Not rushing students is as important as not rushing ourselves.

But not rushing does not give us an excuse not to act even if acting makes us and our students uncomfortable.  The process of excelling at anything cannot be accomplished without taking risks and taking risks is never easy or comfortable.  Unless we are willing to go the way of Kodak, we must be prepared to adapt to a world of digital technologies.

–Steven L. Berg, PhD

ADDENDUM:

As I was drafting this blog, Katherine Montgomery began a discussion on “Quick and Easy Digital Pedagogy–Idea Exchange?” where she invited individuals to post their best practices.

Photo Credit:  Ciccio Pizzettaro

“Could Faculty Go the Way of Kodak?” has been cross posted at HASTAC.

“I make sure to get to class on time just for it to be canceled. USE YOUR DAMN EMAIL. Grr”

–Posted on Facebook, 12 January 2012

About 25 years ago, I was horrified as I read the letters which students had written in support of my nomination for a prestigious teaching award.  They thought I should have been awarded the Excellence in Teaching Citation because I was courteous.  What really troubled me was the realization that if students thought that courtesy was the main reason I should win the award, it meant that my colleagues were not being courteous.

I again thought of those letters when I read a posting that a former student made on Facebook:  “I make sure to get to class on time just for it to be canceled. USE YOUR DAMN EMAIL. Grr.”  Given the ease of technological communication, I am in sympathy with my student.

I know that there have been times when I have even e-mailed students in the evening to tell them that I was not feeling well and that they should be sure to read their e-mail before coming to class the next day.  The following morning, I send an e-mail informing students whether class is cancelled or not.  It is a simple act of courtesy that is easy to accomplish.

I am not passing judgment on this particular faculty member.  For example, if the professor had been in an automobile accident on the way to campus, it would not have been possible to send an e-mail to the class.  But how often do we not send e-mails when we cannot be in class?  How often do we not extend even the simplest acts of courtesy when presented with a student in our office, in the hallway, in our classroom, or somewhere else on campus?

About the same time I was reading the letters of recommendation that my students had written on my behalf, I learned the theory that both violence and non-violence were mimetic.  I also learned that something mimetic is imitative; that violence begets violence and that non-violence begins a cycle of non-violence.

His professor’s lack of courtesy brought out the worse in my former student; shouting followed by a “Grr.”  Unintentionally, the professor taught the students that she or he was not going to treat them with respect.  Early in the semester, the seeds of mutual disrespect had been sown.  This act of violence might now be imitated by the students in the class.

Fortunately, because students too often have such low expectations of us, it is easy to earn their respect.  An e-mail, a friendly word, some penny candy, or any simple act of courtesy can make them think that we deserve to win an Excellence in Teaching Citation.

It’s just too easy

–Steven L. Berg, PhD

Photo Credit:  Undeclared Major.  Please click on image to see a larger version.

Generally, Martin Luther King Day falls during the second week of classes.  As a result, I am able to meet my students and to establish the important first day of class impression.  I also have the ability to give students an assignment to complete to help them prepare for our discussion of Dr. King.

However, this year our first day of class falls on Martin Luther King Day.  This is problematic.

The first day of class is extremely important for setting the tone of the course.  Over the past few years, I have developed a very effective strategy to begin each semester; a strategy that does not involve teaching about Dr. King.

I could build a strong case to argue that the educational benefits of the first day of class are so important that, for this year, it is acceptable to focus on business as usual than it is to honor. Dr. King.  In fact, I am sure that I could even develop an argument using Dr. King’s own words to justify that conducting my traditional first day of class is an appropriate way to honor him.  However, any such arguments would be disingenuous.

It is easy to state one’s values and even live one’s values when there is no conflict or challenge to them.  What is difficult is acting on one’s values in the face of adversity.

If my previous public statements have any meaning, then it is up to me to find a way to both honor Dr. King and to conduct an effective first day of class that sets the tone for the semester.  Although the solution to my dilemma now seems so obvious, it was actually a struggle for me to find a middle group between competing values.  Ironically, because I gave myself time for reflection, I did not need to compromise any values while developing the solution to my problem.

I have never believed that showing a film about Dr. King is necessarily the best way to honor him.  Therefore, in previous semesters, I have been able to both help students to come to a richer understanding of Dr. King’s message while advancing core course concepts such as the problems of ethnocentrism or cultural imperialism.  One year, I took a leadership role on campus by screening and facilitating discussions of the Shirley Temple short film Kid in Africa (1933).

One of the hallmarks of my first day of class is to make it possible for students to meet each other.  Therefore, I break students into small groups and then reshuffle the groups throughout the class period.  In most classes, I show at least one short film on the first day of class.  For the past few semesters, I organized the first day of Composition I around a series of short films.

For winter semester, I can use the same model of small groups and films/discussion that I have used in the past.  Instead of the films I usually show, I will make sure that the films facilitate a discussion of Dr. King and his message.

Coming to this elegant solution to the problem of honoring Dr. King on the first day of class did not come easily to me.  However, as Dr. King counseled, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”  On the federal holiday honoring him, I will not be a silent friend.

–Steven L. Berg, PhD

Ten Films Honoring Dr. King

Earlier today, I posted “Ten Films Honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.” in the Film Studies Blog in which I argued that even if a professor could not devote the entire first day of class honoring Dr. King, that she or he might show a short film and have a discussion as part of the class.  Ten short films which are available on-line are included in the post.  Each film is linked to at least one quote by Dr. King.

Previous Blog Entries
Concerning Martin Luther King, Jr. Day

• “Closing Schools to Honor Dr. King?”
  (17 January 2011)
• “An Open Letter to a Student”
  (19 January 2008)

It was 1982. I was 24 years old and a significant portion of my social circle consisted of other couples who were involved in interracial relationships. It had only been 14 years since the Supreme Court ruled that outlawing interracial marriage—at least for heterosexual couples—was unconstitutional. But most of us would have been unaware of a court case that was settled before we had reached puberty.

As we drank and smoked and danced to Prince, we looked to a future of unlimited possibilities. Because 18 years is three-quarters of a lifetime for one who is only 24, the turn of the century seemed like a lifetime away and we were content to party as if it were 1999. While our bodies moved wildly in Robert’s living room, we failed to be fully mindful of that portion of Prince’s lyrics that reminded us that parties weren’t meant to last.

Today, 18 years represents only a third of my lifetime and it has been nine years since the Supreme Court decriminalized consensual sexual activity between individuals who were not married; including non-heterosexual couples. Today, Hawaii and Delaware join the growing number of states that recognize either civil unions or same-sex marriage; something that was once considered inconceivable in my lifetime.

I have completed my doctorate and gained professional experience in academia, the business sector, and with non-profits. I stopped drinking in 1983 and more than two decades later began practicing the Buddha Dhamma. From the prospect of a 24 year old, I have had more than a life time of experiences since we danced to 1999.

But more important than education and life experience, the intervening years since dancing in Robert’s living room have given me perspective. Not only do I have perspective in terms of my own life but also in relationship to the lives of others.

When I first started teaching, I was only a few years older than my students and we shared cultural cues and the same historical. However, it was in my third year of teaching, just after I turned 28, that I first realized that I had an historical perspective different from those of my students. It was 28 January 1986, the day we watched the Challenger explode shortly after takeoff. After I mentioned to my class that we would likely remember this day as we remembered Kennedy’s assassination, one student commented that he could not remember Kennedy’s assassination because that was the day he was born.

Awareness of perspective allows me to step back and to consider my own intellectual development in relation to that of my students. When I become frustrated and think, “Why don’t they know such and such,” I am able to consider whether I knew such and such at their age. Usually, I did not.

I began 2011 by reading W. Fred Graham’s The Constructive Revolutionary: John Calvin and His Socio-Economic Impact; a book I had originally read as an undergraduate and which served as the basis for some of my intellectual thought on how to approach American history. Although I had “understood”  the book when I first read it while taking a class from Dr. Graham, it is amazing how much better I appreciated The Constructive Revolutionary while re-reading it 30 years later.

Although I did not realize it at the time, one of the reasons that Dr. Graham was a wonderful professor is because he did not become frustrated when, as undergraduates, we lacked his historical background as well as the perspective to make connections between the text and contemporary socio-economic issues. I hope that I am able to model Dr. Graham’s patience when I work with students who lack my background and historical perspective.

I also have the perspective to realize that my priorities as someone who will turn 54 later this month are very different than those of my students. But I also know that I was not so different from them when I was their age. They have different hopes and dreams and anxieties and relationships and jobs and families than I did. But, like me, they are moving from adolescence to adulthood. And I can offer my perspective to both challenge them and to ease their paths during this exciting period of their lives.

As the fresh flowers I like to have around my home remind me, everything is subject to change.  Therefore, I no longer party like it’s 1999; not because the date is in the past but because I have learned that true contentment comes from being mindful in the present.

My perspective has changed and my life is more contented than it was while dancing with Ricky. But, on the morning of 1 January 2012, I was able to welcome in the new year by dancing to Prince in my living room.  And life was good.

–Steven L. Berg, PhD

A Marginally Related Note

This observation did not fit into the essay, but I was amused to see that it was Liberty University’s advertisement on Prince’s 1999 video when I looked up the clip for this essay.  You may click on the image above for a better view of the advertisement.

On 29 December 1170, my 24th great grandfather, Sir William de Traci, performed a service for King Henry II which would lead to the canonization of Thomas a Becket by Pope Alexander III on 21 February 1173. Later in his life, Grandpa William would endow a chapel to St. Thomas at the Conventual Church at Tewkesbury.

Although Grandpa Williams’ service to the King is beyond question, it was not universally acclaimed. For example, in addition to canonizing Thomas a Beckett, Pope Alexander III excommunicated grandpa along with Reginald Fitzurse, Hugh de Morville, and Richard le Breton. For some reason, his Holiness was not amused when these four knights answered King Henry’s question, “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?” by assassinating the Archbishop of Canterbury.

When I teach students about Sir William de Traci, I puff up like a peacock when I tell them all of grandpa’s accomplishments. However, I neglect to mention that little fact about the assassination. Then, for a homework assignment, I ask students to do a bit of research about grandpa in order to determine whether or not I am being truthful.

The last time I gave this assignment, one student requested clarification. He wanted to know if I was asking them to check the “facts” I had given to see if they were all true. I assured him and his colleagues that everything I told them about Grandpa William was true. The issue I wanted them to consider was whether or not I was being truthful.

As they conduct their research, my students come to appreciate that Grandpa William was a complex man who who did  charitable works and who did assassinate the Archbishop of Canterbury. He was both loyal to his King and an opportunist. In other words, like all of his, he was a flawed individual whose life cannot be evaluated in a simplistic fashion.

Because it seems to go against common sense, students struggle with the concept that what is true is not necessarily truthful. But simply stating facts does not make for truthfulness. The lesson is an important one; not just for history students.

Were he an American born citizen and alive today, Grandpa William could be a candidate for President. As a political candidate, his supporters would create commercials about his patriotism and charity. His opponents’ advertisements would focus on the assassination and excommunication. Neither set of commercials would be truthful. But for too many individuals, truthfulness is not the goal of political discourse. Winning is all that counts.

Where winning is everything, assassinations—of characters or humans—become easily justifiable.

Because of the lessons they learned while studying about Grandpa William, I hope that my students will pause before forwarding an e-mail or posting a simplistic slogan on Facebook that supports their candidate or goes against a position they oppose. I hope they have come to appreciate that the important question is not “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?” Instead, in a civil society, we need to ask, “Is it truthful?”

–Steven L. Berg, PhD

While preparing today’s blog entry, I came across Stuart Leeming’s “When Friendship Turns Sour: The Murder of Thomas Becket” which he published in The History Onyx: A Present Look at the Past on 22 January 2011.

Mr. Leeming provides a nice summary of the relationship between Thomas Becket and King Henry II.  It is worth taking the time to read.

After I explained my vision for the Ocelot Scholars Project to her, one of my colleagues commented, “You are really taking on the role of project manager.” She is correct. I will not be teaching the class so much as I will be facilitating the work that will lead to a successful project outcome. While completing the project, my students will not only learn the required course concepts, but they will also develop skills that will allow them to succeed in the 21^st century; skills such as critical thinking, synthesizing information, creativity, team work, and flexibility.

In addition to setting up the framework for the Ocelot Scholars Project, there are other ways I plan to challenge more traditional forms of education. For example, I have invited my early American history students to help design the syllabus we will use and I have asked my early modern world students for help in picking a theme for the course. Although this is not the first time I have co-designed syllabi with students, I suspect that these students have not been previously given the opportunity to have such an opportunity to influence a course they are about to take.

Earlier this week, one of my history students sent me a link to Sir Ken Robinson’s Changing Education Paradigms. As Sir Robinson rightly points out, traditional educational practices prepare students from an agricultural background to successfully advance during the industrial revolution. I am not sure that any of my current students live on farms and none need higher education to succeed in an industrial revolution that reached its zenith in 1908 when Henry Ford began to mass produce the Model T.

During the industrial revolution and the years immediately following it, teaching students how to work in an organization where employees hired into entry level positions, moved up through the ranks, and then retired from the only company for whom they had ever been employed might have been a reasonable educational goal. However, such a career path is not the case for a skilled 21^st century workforce. Therefore, if students are to have a transformative educational experience, I need to teach as if the world has advanced since Henry Ford developed the production line.

In order to allow students to develop 21^st century skills in my classroom, I need to be willing to advance my own skills. When Dr. Cathy N. Davidson, the author of Now You See It: How the Brain Science of Attention Will Transform the Way We Live, Work , and Learn, was directing my graduate work at Michigan State University, she taught me impeccable research skills. But the world has changed since the 1980s and those skills that initially made me an effective scholar are no longer effective.

Under Dr. Davidson’s direction as well as others, I became an effective teacher who won the Excellence in Teaching Citation. Because only six were given out each year, this citation was the most prestigious award that Michigan State presented to a graduate teaching assistant. Yet if I were to try to teach my classes today as I did then, I would be a very poor professor who does not serve his students well. Again, the world has changed and I have had to change with it.

While adapting to a quickly changing world is scary, it is manageable because, even in the 1980s, Dr. Davidson was taking a student centered approach to education which allowed me to develop what we now call 21^st century skills.

Whether we take it as curse or challenge, we are living in interesting times. My students have been warned and so have I. As I look to the future, I am reminded of the scene where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid  jump off the cliff and free fall into the gorge below. I appreciate their fear.

Recently, I shared my fear of stepping into the abyss with a current student who plans to take another class with me during Winter 2012. I told him that we would have a great success or we would crash and burn. His response was enlightening: “Either way, we are going to learn something.” And learning something as part of our education is not so bad.

–Steven L. Berg, PhD

“May You Live in Interesting Times” has been cross posted on the HASTAC website.

It is the end of the semester and over the weekend I slowly worked through the pile of manuscripts I had received the previous week. I sighed over formatting errors and corrected grammar and spelling mistakes. I revised text that was awkward and was frustrated that so many authors ignored requirements that had been clearly explained. I encountered a graphic that was sideways and answered an e-mail from an author who wondered if it was too late to revise her text—even after the deadline—because what she had submitted was not well written. And then there was the note from one author telling me where I could locate some data that she had been too lazy to insert into her own document.

While I am sure that many colleagues would commiserate with me while expressing sentiments about the poor quality of student work, I was not dealing with a stack of student papers. The manuscripts were presentation proposals written by faculty members for a forthcoming conference.

A few years ago, while staffing the registration desk at a conference, I was helping sort out a problem for a colleague. Another faculty member joined us because she wanted tickets for one of the conference events. Then a third faculty member approached me. The three interrupted and talked over each other in an attempt to be the one I helped first. They were demanding and rude not only to me but to each other.

As I began to explain that I could only help one at a time, they realized that the next conference sessions were about to begin, informed me that they would come back later, and then dashed off to attend a workshop on dealing with student incivility.

I am no longer surprised when members of the faculty model the incivility about which we complain.

During the past few years, I have become inclined to walk out of sessions if the presenter is poorly prepared or if the information—even when well presented—is not relevant to me. And more recently, I did not simply roll my eyes during a particularly boring presentation. I pretended to stab myself with a butter knife. People at my table giggled as the presenter droned on.

By looking at my own expectations and behavior, I have become more compassionate to students as well as a better teacher. I also do a better job of modeling the civility I expect in my classroom. As a result, students have become more civil to me and to their colleagues.

For example, if I am not willing to have my time wasted, I need to make sure not to waste my students’ time. Or because I realize that life sometimes interferes with my teaching, I am more understanding when a student is called into work, needs to pick up a sick sibling, leaves a thumb drive or paper at home, or has a doctor’s appointment during class time. Furthermore, if I can ask the dean for an extension on a report, why would I not let dedicated students have the same option?

Arguing for compassion does not excuse inappropriate behavior. While it seemed funny at the time, the incident with the butter knife is not one of my prouder moments and someone could have rightly questioned the appropriateness of my behavior. Furthermore, the Dean is not giving me an extension as a reward for procrastination. I am being “rewarded” so that I can do even more work than is required to complete the assignment.

To gain better understanding on dealing with student incivility, we might not need another conference session. Maybe we just need to observe ourselves at the next faculty meeting or professional development seminar before reflecting on the degree of civility we show each other?

–Steven L. Berg, PhD

Photo Credit: Dr. Jennifer T. Edwards

After reading “You Must Be Present to Win” in which I argued that students should take the initiative to get to know instructors outside the classroom, a colleague sent me an e-mail in which he rightly observed, “Your part about outside contact between students and instructors has one structural barrier.” His analysis of the structural barriers faced by adjunct faculty members who often do not have an office nor the time/commitment to spend a great deal of time on campus—especially those who teach on multiple campuses or have other employment outside their teaching-is an issue that needs to be addressed. Instead of responding to those legitimate concerns, I would argue that such concerns were outside the focus or the essay I wrote.

However, his observation that “I am not sure that your comments speak well to online students” is much more revealing about one of the dangers we face in education; a danger that can prevent even the best intended of us to overlook crucial information. Cathy N. Davidson¹ has described this danger as attention blindness, a phenomenon where in looking at one thing too closely, we can literally miss a gorilla who walks across the basketball court.²

Although I have previously been very involved in on-line education, during the past few years I have been teaching fewer and fewer distance learning classes. I had reached the point where I was only teaching one on-line class a year during Spring semester; a class I have decided to stop teaching. As my time in the on-line classroom has diminished, I have developed significant attention blindness in an area in which I once had significant expertise. Until receiving the e-mail from my colleague, I had not realized the extent to which I had developed blindness toward the needs of on-line students.

For some, Dr. Davidson offers a surprising analysis when she argues, “Attention blindness is the fundamental structuring principle of the brain, and I believe that it presents us with a tremendous opportunity.” She goes on to explain, “My take is different from that of many neuroscientists: Where they perceive the shortcomings of the individual, I sense an opportunity for collaboration.”³

Unfortunately, for some individuals, embracing the opportunity for collaboration is problematic. These individuals cannot admit that they have a problem with attention blindness. As academics, we take pride in our intellectual abilities and do not appreciate having our well considered conclusions challenged. Yet, this is the wrong way to look at the issue.

Recognizing attention blindness does not imply a defect of intellectual rigor. Instead, it recognizes the reality that we cannot see every aspect of an issue; that—as the cliche teaches—the group is smarter than the individual.

When my colleague pointed out the attention blindness I exhibited in “You Must Be Present to Win,” he was not saying that what I wrote was incorrect or ill informed or lacked serious thought. Only that my essay was incomplete. Fortunately, I am able to accept his observation and welcome him into a collaborative dialogue about student success.

No one of us has the solution to anything. Because of attention blindness, anything we write is going to be incomplete. But, if we are willing to acknowledge our attention blindness and then enter into constructive dialogue with individuals from a variety of perspectives, we are better able to promote success for students and for ourselves.

–Steven L. Berg, PhD

¹See Dr. Davidson’s author’s blog for more information on her recent book: Now You See It: How the Brain Science of Attention Will Transform the Way We Live, Work, and Learn.

²Christopher Chabris and Daniel Simons tested selective attention with a video they produced in 1999. People viewing the video did not see a gorilla because they were so busy concentrating on something else.

³Davidson, Cathy N. “Collaborative Learning for the Digital Age.” The Chronicle Review. 26 August 2011.

While watching the Blizzard of Bucks game with some of my students, the host pulled out the name for the next contestant. It was someone we knew—a student from our class—and we were ready to watch him win some money. Because our colleague had left the area to attend his afternoon class, the host selected another student to compete for prize money. As part of Blizzard of Bucks, you must be present to win. Unfortunately, students too often don’t realize that educational success works the same way.

Several years ago, I met with a student to go over the manuscript for her research paper; a paper that needed significant revisions because it included no academic citations. Because it was less than a week before the final paper was due, the student was very upset about the amount of work she was expected to complete. “Why,” she asked while almost literally stamping her feet, “am I just hearing about this for the first time?”

My response was simple, “Because this is the first time you have shown me the paper.” I did not bother to point out that the manuscript had been due one month earlier and that the student had skipped a series of mandatory conferences with me; conferences held during class time.

While this type of gross negligence is obviously harmful, there are more subtle ways that students lose because they are not present. Following are four less obvious ways that being present helps students win.

• Meeting with an Academic Counselor: Academic counselors can help select appropriate classes to advance a student’s goal but they can also help steer students into sections of classes that are most appropriate for them. For example, a student whose learning disability made it difficult for him to work in an unstructured, highly social environment enrolled in a class I taught; a problem that could have been avoided had he met with his counselor before enrolling. Although this student’s counselor would have recommended the student not enroll in my class, I know that this academic counselor has also encouraged other students to take sections of courses I teach.
• Meeting with Faculty Outside of the Classroom: One of the most important things a student can do is to meet with faculty members outside the classroom even when they do not have problems with a course. This is especially important when the faculty member teaches in the discipline in which the student plans to pursue. During casual conversations with students over a cup of tea or coffee, I learn things about them that allow me to provide better assistance; assistance that is often unrelated to the class in which the student in enrolled.
• Participating in “Frivolous” Campus Activities: One might legitimately ask how participating in Blizzard of Bucks is valuable to student success. Not only are campus events fun but students meet other students. Such student to student engagement builds relationships that we know make the college experience better and lead to student success. Members of the faculty, staff, and administration also attend such events and students can engage with them. I know that some of my students were able to interact with the dean of social sciences, the head of the Schoolcraft College Foundation, the director of the Transitions Center and others who are good contacts.
• Participating in “Serious” Campus Activities: Student clubs are a great way for students to advance their interests. Seminars and speakers sponsored by the International Institute, Learning Support Services, and University Bound allow students to improve their skills, learn from interesting speakers, and make contacts with individuals both on and off campus.

By helping students understand that student success involves more than what happens in the classroom, faculty provide a great service to students. However, as with the Blizzard of Bucks, students must be present to win. And for that, they are the ones who must accept the responsibility.

–Steven L. Berg, PhD