(No. 3)

In the Undergraduate Mind: The First-Year Experience from Three Perspectives

Parent

So, you send your first-born off to a University, with a zillion questions and concerns lurking just behind the goodbye smile and hug. OK, smile/tears and hug. You've worked in a University for many years yourself, so why are there still so many questions? Maybe I've been using only the far-sighted part of my mental bifocals, occasionally wondering how my students are doing in their other courses, musing on how their social lives and other activities may affect their achievement in my classes. Now I stare through the near-sighted part of the lens, all the fine-print questions and what-ifs clearly visible, in fact looming large.
A big question for my husband and me was how our son would adjust to, and learn in, large classes. He attended a small private high school with an average of about fourteen students per class. An early realization in visiting colleges was that he was drawn to bigger schools. He was outspoken about wanting a considerably larger pool of students and faculty as part of the college experience. Los parentos tilted the other way, certain that smaller classes are always better. His first semester at the University of Virginia consisted of three large (upwards of 200 students) and two small (16- and 20-student) classes.
Listening to him during and after the first semester we learned that his two favorite courses came from both categories, one large and one small. The virtues of the 200+ class seemed to be that it was large but not impersonal. The instructor "made you feel as if he were talking to you." He was animated and in good command of the organization and presentation of complex material. This professor evidently enjoys introducing students to his discipline. He gave challenging tests and assignments, with some choice in the latter. He made an effort to call students by name. Taking this course (with this professor) confirmed our son's initial desire to explore this field. The aspect of choice was important to my son's embrace of this class. It was his choice to attend class, his decision whether to write papers or participate in labs. Such a welcome change from the strictures of high school!
He described a chief strength of the small class, the University Seminar, as a compelling topic (drugs in the modern era) with a terrific teacher who maintained objectivity about the material. This seemed to be a key point, that the prof trusted the students to read and share a variety of perspectives and opinions about drug use and abuse, and the history of international drug control policies, without trying to lead them to a pre-ordained conclusion. There were frequent short writing assignments and feedback on those from the instructor. Students were responsible for many aspects of the class, such as writing chapter summaries and leading class discussions. There was an irresistible final assignment, writing and speaking about the major ideas of the texts in pitching your idea for a film. The sequence of assignments and activities was both creative and demanding. Our son enjoyed the frequent opportunities to interact with fellow students, really getting to know many of them through discussions, editing each other's writing, and sometimes viewing films together. However, he pointed out to us that he would not have these same 19 as his mates in every class; and for him that is another wonderful perk of attending a university rather than a small college.
During our occasional conversations we heard about ideas being tackled in his other classes as well as in these two, and I think there was a kind of serendipitous coherence to the semester. Major ideas from a larger history class (with a focus on war and ethics) linked to the psychology course and to the smaller history seminar, all of which was probably fodder for his writing class. And an introductory science class exercised the other brain hemisphere. His willingness to talk about what he was studying, to let us in on ideas he found intriguing or passé, revealed a new confidence and maturity, a willingness to formulate and share his thoughts. In retrospect, I think he found reinforcement for intellectual bents that have been evident in him since elementary school. First, he admired instructors who are not prescriptive, who remain intellectually on the hunt for the complexities inherent in the topic. Virtually all his university profs fit that bill. Next, his faith strengthened in his conviction that learning can't be forced, it must be chosen. It won't always happen in neat semester packages. The thing is to keep the spark of interest, of curiosity, alive so that it one day will flame as discovered passion. As a final observation, he (always self-directed in doing academic work) became more conscious of his approach to study (again, this theme of choice), planning when and how much to read, write, participate in discussions, and prepare for tests.
I'm coming to several conclusions as I work to remember and assess the changes perceptible after one semester of college. All tentative, of course, but here is what I think I learned:

• that class size is not the most important factor in maximizing student learning; the skills, organization and mindset of the instructor probably have more of an effect.
• that (note to myself!) I must expect ups and downs. The first semester was very positive academically (even including some not-mentioned-here bumps and surprises which he had to recover from or adjust to). He showed a real engagement in, an enjoyment of, learning. That had not been present often in high school; and when it was, it was muted. There are probably some predictable letdowns, disappointments, blind alleys in the semesters ahead. He'll weather them.
• that the "how to parent a college student" books and deanly talks are all pretty much on target. It is time to listen to, follow the lead of, the young person. I might be happier in a small liberal arts college, but this larger milieu is right for him. I will do best for myself and this young man to listen, to lay back, to not say everything I think, but rather to ask questions to extend and challenge his thinking.

So, you send your first-born off to a University, and find you're enrolled as well, in the Parent Distance-Education Tutorial. The class meets at odd hours in late night phone calls, archaeological field trips to the old homestead, and flurries of e-mail. Some questions get answered, new ones emerge. The syllabus is a work in progress, a surprise a day. As learning is, by nature, somewhat destabilizing, we'll consider it a plus that none of us is likely to become mortar bored on this college journey!