The Obama administration is right to make community colleges a cornerstone of its plan to close skill gaps and put people back to work. The nation’s 1,200 community colleges enroll 6.7 million students, or nearly half the U.S. undergraduate population. They are key institutions in today’s education-intensive economy.
But there is a gaping hole in the community college pipeline: some 60 percent of incoming community college students must complete one or more remedial courses before working toward degrees, and upwards of 70 percent of students in these "developmental" math courses don’t complete them. As a result, the higher education careers of many students are over before they begin.
Researchers at Teachers College Columbia University have attracted wide coverage for a recent study arguing that as many as one in four community college students placed in remedial courses would pass regular college-level classes if given the chance to enroll in them. But whether that’s true or not, vast numbers of students arrive at community colleges woefully unprepared and there’s little chance of substantially expanding the community college sector’s role in economic development unless we help students catch up.
The solution lies in rethinking remedial education. With the support of five national philanthropies, the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching has launched a national network of 27 community colleges and three universities dedicated to helping students at the greatest risk of failure in math. The approach uses a comprehensive strategy of support for students and faculty members in a "networked improvement community." It’s early in the life of the project, but the results so far are encouraging.
The strategy starts with dramatically altering the nature of instruction. Teaching students the same content the same way over and over is obviously not working. Those who failed to move beyond arithmetic in middle school, and who didn’t grasp key concepts any more fully during re-teaching in high school, are unlikely to master them if they are presented in the same abstract and rote fashion once more in community college.
Instead, the Carnegie network’s instruction and online out-of-class resources focus on the statistics and quantitative reasoning that matters most for students’ work, personal and civic lives. There are units on "Seven Billion and Counting," "The Credit Crunch" and "Has the Minimum Wage Kept Up?" Students learn math through themes such as citizenship and personal finance. It's rigorous stuff, but relevant and engaging, requiring students to use the tools of algebra, statistics, data visualizations and analysis to solve meaningful, real-world problems as a way of thinking mathematically.
The network is also using a number of promising psychological and motivational strategies to overcome students' pervasive math anxiety and other debilitating stereotypic beliefs and give them the confidence and drive they need to work hard and be successful. The effort includes helping faculty members create positive and productive learning environments through carefully designed team-building activities, protocols for classroom discussions, "classroom contracts" that foster camaraderie and group responsibility, and other strategies.
To the same end, the network is reconceptualizing students' homework assignments, replacing traditional rote exercises with problem- and scenario-based exercises that extend classroom learning. We're taking the obvious but often-neglected step of helping the many community college students for whom English isn't their first language navigate communication barriers.
And the project has abandoned the traditional model of the independent faculty member working in isolation in favor of a network strategy that allows faculty to work together across campuses to build common instructional systems and improve the program in real time through the network’s ongoing collection of student and faculty feedback (including strategies such as quick surveys delivered via students’ cell phones) and other information on instruction, instructional materials and student performance.
Importantly, community colleges in the project grant college credit toward certificates and degrees to students who complete the new, rigorous yearlong Carnegie “pathways,” saving students the often-demoralizing delay of taking noncredit classes (the norm for remedial courses in higher education).
Colleges pay just over $20,000 a year, the equivalent of about a half-dozen student tuitions, to participate in the network. Some pay less. By increasing the success rate in developmental courses, the network helps colleges extend student enrollments and increase graduation rates -- giving them a potentially substantial return on their investment.
The network’s early results are promising, even with a largely high-risk student population. Nearly half the students in network colleges are from households with incomes below $40,000 a year. And only 10 percent have mothers with at least a bachelor’s degree. Yet 89 percent remained enrolled for the full fall term (the program rolled out in the network’s colleges at the beginning of the 2011-12 school year) and 68 percent finished the first semester with a grade of C or better (required for college credit), nearly double the 36 percent of students earning the same grades in the less-demanding courses taught previously in the network's schools.
The students who completed the new courses scored nearly as high on an independent end-of-semester exam as a national sample of community college and university students who had completed college-level statistics coursework. And 88 percent of the students earning C's or better moved on to the second half of the two-semester, credit-yielding course. That's more than triple the proportion of students in the network's colleges who successfully navigated a first term of remedial math and signed up for a second before the network's creation.
And we know from surveys that the program’s confidence-building components increase students’ enthusiasm for math, and make students less anxious about the subject and more likely to believe that with hard work they could master it — a complete turnaround from the typical perspectives of students in traditional developmental math classes.
The test of the new network model will be sustaining these early results as we scale from 1,600 students today to our target of 62,000 a year by 2017-18. But the encouraging early evidence suggests that it is possible to reverse the pernicious culture of failure among community college students, that a comprehensive improvement strategy can put them on a surer path to a truly higher education.
Anthony Bryk is the president of the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching and Thomas Toch directs the foundation’s Washington office.
We do not have a system of public education in this country. As a nation, we have yet to connect the dots between early childhood programming, kindergarten learning, elementary and secondary education coursework, and college curriculums. Until we do, the issue of remediation – and the excessive costs associated with it in every state – will carry on.
Forty to fifty percent of children nationwide are underprepared for kindergarten, lacking the basic vocabulary and sensitivities that the work demands. These same students are pushed through the system, and in third and fourth grade cannot comprehend early math and English instruction. By the time they reach college – if they make it that far – they are saddled with remedial coursework that costs taxpayers money and whittles away at the students’ financial aid. At the State University of New York alone, we spend more than $70 million per year on remediation, and 20 percent — or $93 million — of financial aid awarded to our community college students goes toward remedial classes.
I applaud Connecticut’s intent to abolish remediation, but this is not a legislative issue. It’s a community issue that can only be effectively addressed by an agreement on behalf of everyone who has a stake in a child’s education — parents, educators, civic groups, employers, and government leaders — to break out of our boxes and accept a shared responsibility for maintaining the education pipeline.
To eliminate the need for remediation, the disconnects among us must first be collaboratively addressed. Teachers can better communicate with parents about what is expected of their children in class and what can be done at home to ensure their preparation. School districts and colleges can work together to develop curriculums that will prepare students for the next stage of their education, from kindergarten to higher ed. Finally, stronger partnerships between colleges and employers will result in job-ready graduates who have been trained for in-demand careers.
Together with our K-12 partners, we will use the results of this study to evaluate proficiency and address weaknesses in the pipeline by expanding effective resources, such as educational opportunity programs, and introducing new ones, like "summer boot camp." Once students are enrolled in college and truly in need of remediation, we will work toward better results by improving student advisement services and carrying out best practices that are proven to equip students with the skills they need. By also re-evaluating existing student aid programs, we will ensure that remedial courses are delivered in a cost-effective manner until they are no longer needed.
In New York, Connecticut, and across the country, too many of our children are underperforming in school. By not collaborating to put effective education reforms in place that address every child’s need from cradle to career, we are letting it happen. Any legislation that addresses our reliance on remedial education must be fully informed and carried out by all involved.
Nancy L. Zimpher is chancellor of the State University of New York.
On the surface America’s public commitment to provide access to any individual who seeks entry to postsecondary education seems to be working. Our higher education system enjoys one of the highest participation rates in the world. More than 16 million students currently enroll in public and private two and four-year colleges and universities in the United States. In the past 20 years, enrollments have grown over 25 percent; the proportion of high school graduates entering college immediately after high school has increased from 49 percent in 1980 to over 68 percent today. More importantly, the gap in access between high and low-income youth has shrunk as greater numbers of economically disadvantaged students have enrolled in college; the number entering college immediately after high school having increased by over 60 percent since 1970. By any count, access to higher education for low-income students is greater today than ever.
But scratch beneath the surface of this apparent success and the story about access and opportunity in American higher education is much more complex and a lot less hopeful. As access has increased so too has stratification of participation by income. For too many low-income students the door to higher education is only partially open because financial constraints limit their choices of where and how they attend college. This is most noticeable in shifting patterns of attendance at two vs. four-year institutions. In 1973, the first year of the Pell Grant program, the percentage of Pell Grant recipients enrolled in four-year colleges and universities was 63 percent. By 2006 it had shrunk to about 40 percent.
Understandably, some measure of the difference in participation can be attributed to well documented differences in levels of academic preparation of low and high-income students and the impact of recent policies that have restricted access to four-year institutions for students with substantial academic needs. There is little question that academic preparation matters and that differences in preparation among students continue to pose daunting challenges to our ability to promote greater equality in college. But even among students with similar levels of academic skills, low-income students are still less likely to attend four-year institutions than are high-income students. Even when they do, they are less likely to attend elite institutions than are high-income students. Indeed there is even less income diversity than racial or ethnic diversity at the most selective colleges. Whereas roughly three quarters of the students at highly selective colleges come from families in the top quartile of the socioeconomic scale, just 3 percent come from the bottom quartile.
Why does such stratification of participation matter? It matters because where one goes to college influences the likelihood of college completion, in particular the attainment of a four-year degree. Data from a six-year national longitudinal study of students who began college in 1995-6 bears testimony to this fact. Whereas 6 in 10 students who entered a four-year institution earned a bachelor’s degree within six years, only a little more than 1 in 10 public two-year college entrants did so. Even within institutions income matters. Of those who began higher education in a public four-year college or university in 1995-6, only 48 percent of low-income students earned their four-year degree within six years while 69 percent of high-income students did so. Among those who started in a public two-year college only 7 percent of low-income students earned a bachelors degree while over 26 percent of high income students did so. The net result is that while 6 in 10 high-income students who began higher education in 1995-6 earned a bachelor’s degree within six years, only 1 in 4 low-income students did so.
The facts are clear. Though access to higher education has increased and gaps in overall access decreased, gaps between high and low-income students in college completion generally and four-year degrees in particular remain. Indeed the achievement gap in the completion of four-year degrees is now greater than ever. For too many low-income students the “open door” to American higher education has become a revolving door.
What is to be done? What can we do to more effectively translate the opportunity access promises to low-income students to meaningful opportunity for success in college? Clearly there is no simple or single answer. That being said, it is clear that our nation will not be able to close the achievement gap unless we are able to effectively address student needs for academic support in ways that are consistent with their participation in higher education and do so in the community colleges. Simply put, our success depends on community colleges’ success. But closing the achievement gap will be not achieved by practice as usual, by add-ons that do little to change the experience of low-income students in college. What is required is a more serious and substantial restructuring of student experience especially for the many students who enter college academically under-prepared.
This morning I want to focus on three initiatives that in different ways restructure the way we go about the task of helping academically under-prepared students succeed in college. The first of is supplemental instruction. Community colleges, such as El Camino College in California and Santa Fe Community College in Florida among many others have been employing supplemental instruction with great success. Unlike so many academic support programs that are stand-alone entities disconnected from the activities of the classroom, supplemental instruction is connected directly to the classroom. Its goal is to help students succeed in that one class. Least we forget the great majority of low-income students work while in college and many attend part-time.
Unlike the more privileged students in residential universities, many low-income students do not have the privilege of spending time on campus after class. Once class is over they leave campus to attend to other obligations. If we do not reach students in the classroom and align our actions to reshape their experience in the classroom, we will miss the great majority of students who need our support. As importantly, though academic researchers speak of student success as arising in the first year of college or perhaps in the second year, low-income students typically approach success one course at a time. They seek to succeed in one course, then move on to the next. The object of supplemental instruction is to help students achieve that goal, one course at a time. It is important to note that the success of supplemental instruction depends upon the degree to which the activities of the supplemental study groups are aligned with those in the classroom to which they are attached. This is the case because alignment enables the students to immediately apply the support they receive in the supplemental groups to the task of succeeding in the class to which the groups are attached, one class at a time. This typically arises because the supplemental group leaders, sometimes students, sometimes learning center staff, frequently meet with the instructor of the class and/or sit in the class.
This principle of alignment also helps explain the effectiveness of a second initiative that deserves our attention, namely basic skills learning communities. Rather than restructure support to just one course, as is the case of supplemental instruction, basic skills learning communities restructure support to two or more courses by restructuring the curriculum taken by academically under-prepared students. To do so they require students to enroll together in two or more courses that are in content and activities linked so that what is being learned in one course can be applied to what is being learned in another. At the same time, they provide a vehicle for academic support to be connected to all the courses that make up the learning community.
My colleague Cathy Engstrom and I at Syracuse University have just completed a four-year study of basic skills learning communities on 19 campuses across the country of which 13 were two-year colleges. With funding from the Lumina Foundation for Education and the William and Flora Hewlett Foundation we surveyed nearly 7,000 students in basic skills learning communities and in comparison classrooms using a modified version of the Community College Survey of Student Engagement and tracked their persistence over three years. At the same time, we carried out case studies of five learning communities of which three were in two-year colleges in California and New York. We interviewed over 400 students, some over three years to better understand their experience.
Rather than take up our time telling you about our findings, suffice it to say that basic skills learning communities improve student performance and persistence. They do so, in part, because of the way the courses that comprise the learning communities are aligned in their actions so that what is learned in a basic skills course can be applied in the other course or courses that make up the learning community. Listen to the voice of one student who reflected on her experience:
“The relationship in classes between accounting and ESL is helping a lot because the accounting professor is teaching us to answer questions in complete sentences ... to write better. And we are more motivated to learn vocabulary because it is accounting vocabulary, something we want to learn about anyway. I am learning accounting better by learning the accounting language better.”
Basic skills learning communities proved to be particularly effective when the faculty and staff changed the way they taught the courses. Rather than rely on lecture and drill, they employed pedagogies of engagement such as cooperative learning and problem-based learning. As a result, students not only learned the material of the courses in a connected manner, they also learned that material together. As one student told us, “We learn better together.”
The net effect is that students not only do better, they come to feel better about their capacity to succeed in the future. Listen to another student who reflected on how being part of a basic skill learning community shaped his sense of his abilities:
“It has benefited me because I have gotten to know people. I am not alone anymore. It has helped me feel more comfortable, more confident. The more confident I feel, the better I do.”
Then he adds: “I think I have gotten smarter since I have been here. I can feel it.”
The movement to employ other pedagogies in addressing the needs of academically under-prepared students is reflected in a third initiative that is now underway in California and in several other states to restructure the teaching of basic skills. Let me draw you attention to one initiative funded by the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching entitled Strengthening Pre-collegiate Education in Community Colleges (SPECC). A multi-site action-research project involving 11 California community colleges, SPECC focuses on teaching and learning in pre-collegiate mathematics and English language courses that make up the great bulk of basic skills courses taught in California. On each campus, collaborative faculty inquiry groups are exploring different approaches to classroom instruction, academic support, and faculty development. Their inquiry into the effects of these approaches engages a wide range of data, including examples of student work, classroom observations, and quantitative campus data. As one participant in the project noted “teaching basic skills is anything but basic.”
Though it is too early to gauge the success of this important initiative, it is apparent that some colleges such as Laney College and Pasadena City College have improved the success rate of their basic skills students. In the latter case the success rates in pre-algebra classes jumped from 53 percent to 74 percent. And all the result of a collaborative process of faculty inquiring into their practice. Can you imagine what changes we might achieve if we were all willing to use evidence to reconsider our own practices and together think differently about what we do. That, as you may know, is one of the primary goals of the Achieving the Dream initiative funded by the Lumina Foundation for Education.
By describing these initiatives, I hope to make a rather simple point -- namely to address the needs of academically under-prepared students, a disproportionate number of whom are from underserved groups and from low-income backgrounds, we must stop tinkering at the margins of institutional life, stop our tendency to take an “add-on” approach to institutional innovation, and stop marginalizing our efforts and in turn our academically under-prepared students and take seriously the task of restructuring what we do.
The fact is that many colleges speak of the importance of increasing the retention of low-income students and sometimes invest considerable resources to that end. But for all that effort most institutions do not take the student success seriously. They treat it, like so many other issues, as one more item to add to the list of issues to be addressed by the institution. They adopt what Parker calls the "add a course" strategy in addressing the issues that face them. Need to address the issue of diversity? Add a course in diversity studies, but do not address the underlying climate on campus that marginalizes low-income and under-represented students. Need to address the issue of student retention, in particular that of new students? Add a course, such as a Freshman Seminar, but do little to reshape the prevailing educational experiences of students during the first year. Need to address the needs of academically under-prepared students? Add several basic skills courses, typically taught by part-time instructors, but do nothing to reshape how academic support is provided to students or how those courses are taught. The result is that efforts to enhance student retention are increasingly segmented into disconnected parts that are located at the margins of institutional academic life.
Therefore while it is true that there are more than a few retention programs on our campuses, most institutions have done little to change the nature of college life, little to alter the prevailing character of student educational experience, and therefore little to address the deeper roots of student attrition.
To be serious about the success of academically under-prepared students, institutions would recognize that the roots of their attrition lie not only in student backgrounds and the academic skills they bring to campus, but in the very character of the educational settings in which students are asked to learn, settings that are the product of past decisions already made that can be changed if we are serious in our desire to translate the promise access offers to low-income students to real opportunity for success.
Nowhere does such change matter more than during the critical first year when student success is so much in doubt and the classrooms of that year where student first engage in learning. It is for that reason that there is much to be gained from a rethinking of the character of those courses and the development of coherent first-year programs whose purpose it is to ensure that all students receive the support they need to learn and persist beyond that year.
Though we have made progress in providing low-income increased access to higher education, we have been less successful in increasing their attainment of four-year degrees. If anything, the achievement gap between high-income and low-income students has increased over time. It is not enough to provide low-income students access to our universities and colleges and claim we are providing opportunity if we do not construct environments that effectively support their efforts to learn and succeed once access has been gained. Simply put, access without effective support is not opportunity.
Vincent Tinto is Distinguished University Professor at Syracuse University. This essay is adapted from his keynote address in May at the annual conference of the National Institute for Staff and Organizational Development, of the University of Texas at Austin.
You see it all the time, in the brochures and advertisements from liberal arts colleges and other non-gargantuan institutions. "Small class sizes," they promise, and for good reason, because everyone knows that small classes are better than large. No cavernous lecture halls where the professor is little more than a distant stick figure, they say -- raise your hand here, and someone will stop and listen. Plus, he or she will be a real professor, the genuine tenure-track article, not a part-timer or grad student but someone who really knows his or her stuff. Because everyone knows that real professors are better than the other kind.
Except, they don't.
Nobody actually knows whether small classes are better than large. Pascarella and Terenzini's How College Affects Students, the bible of such matters, says "We uncovered 10 studies that focus on the effects of class size on course learning. All of the investigations are quasi-experimental or correlational in design …. Unfortunately, five of the studies used course grade as the measure of learning … the conflicting evidence and continuing methodological problems surrounding this small body of research make it difficult to form a firm conclusion."
The text of How College Affects Students occupies 650 pages; class size consumes just over one of them. In the long history of higher education up to 2005, when the latest edition of HCAS was published, there had never been a single truly experimental study of college class size. Not one.
Similarly, the American Association of University Professors recently released a report criticizing the big regional accreditors for failing to enforce standards related to the growing use of part-time professors, which the AAUP regards with much dismay. Like class size, the full-time / part-time issue is generally treated as a given. U.S. News & World Report uses both measures in its methodology to rank colleges, and they're among the few such ranking measures that don't cause college leaders to erupt in fits of consternation. Yet the AAUP report contains no references to research proving the underlying premise of full-time professorial superiority -- because, I'm guessing, it more or less doesn't exist. A few studies have examined full-time / part-time status and completion rates, but when it comes to actual student learning -- basically nothing. This is not a standard of evidence that university professors would tolerate in their own research.
In other words, when it comes to the central enterprise of higher education -- teaching students -- we don't know if the reigning professional qualification system works, or how many professors we actually need. And this is true for all kinds of other basic elements of college teaching and learning -- curricula, training, pedagogy, and much more.
It's not like these questions couldn't be answered. Millions of students attend college every day in classes that vary greatly in size -- much more so than in K–12 schools, where the issue has been studied exhaustively. Many college courses are taught by full-time professors, many not. It wouldn't take the world's greatest social scientist to design an experiment to get at what those differences mean.
To be sure, there are sui generis courses at every college that wouldn't lend themselves to such analysis because they combine the unique perspective of a particular scholar with his or her subject expertise and time-honed approach to teaching. But that's often not the case. Transcript studies indicate that 20 percent of all course credits earned by college graduates come in just 13 introductory courses like English Composition, Calculus, and Introduction to Economics. Seventy-one percent of all college graduates take some version of Psychology 101. Calculus is pretty much calculus wherever you go (or should be). And even in cases where curricula vary between institutions, larger universities routinely teach many sections of the same course every semester. Why doesn't anyone ever study how much learning varies between them, and why?
In part, because that would require some kind of objective measure of how much students learn in different sections and/or institutions, i.e. some kind of standardized test. Such assessments are often considered anathema to what the AAUP somewhat breathlessly terms the "sacred principle" of academic freedom. But I don't really understand why. There's a great deal of logic behind academic freedom for scholarship. When scholars are bound by conventional thinking and political pressure, their research can suffer immensely. But it's not clear why giving professors license to say and think what they like necessarily translates into an absolute license to teach how they like, at a level of quality that's more or less up to them. Academic freedom shouldn't immunize anyone from scrutiny of how much their students learn between the beginning of the semester and the end. Yes, there are student evaluations, which mean more than they once did. But they are poor substitutes for objective measures of student achievement. Basing education research and instructor performance assessment entirely on student evaluations is like basing clinical drug trials entirely on patient reports of how they feel.
And there's one type of class that's certainly amenable to standardized testing: developmental courses. If colleges choose of their own volition to give all incoming students a test to determine whether they need remediation, it seems reasonable to give developmental students a similar test once they've completed the course, and use evidence of (what one hopes is) increased learning to judge which kinds of developmental approaches -- and instructors -- are best.
The underlying cause of this remarkable information deficit is pretty clear: Colleges and universities don't really need to know -- or want to know -- the answers to these questions. They don't need to know because student learning results are peripheral to the core incentive system in which they operate. University success is measured in terms of dollars raised, high-achieving students recruited, and prestigious scholarship produced—period. Even less selective institutions are highly influenced by these values. They may not have the research mission of the academic giants, but they share organizational models, practices, and ways of thinking, all of which cut against rigorous self-evaluation of teaching and learning.
And they don't want to know because, well, what then? I'll wager dollars to donuts that any well-designed study of the relative effectiveness of full-time vs. part-time instructors would find far more variation within those populations than between them. That would have profound implications for the way college teaching is supervised and evaluated -- like, for example, that it should be supervised and evaluated in a meaningful way. And what if someone actually proved that low-paid part-time professors and large, highly profitable freshman lecture courses had a demonstrable negative impact on learning? The money to support financially hemorrhaging sports programs, rapidly expanding administrative budgets, and light teaching loads for senior faculty doesn't exactly grow on trees.
In fairness, there are some positive signs. The popularity of surveys like the National Survey of Student Engagement, the Community College Survey of Student Engagement, and the Collegiate Learning Assessment indicate a desire for self-study (as long, in the case of most four-year institutions, the results are safely hidden from public view).
But the overall lack of needed information about the core educational mission remains profound. The American higher education system is, we are often reminded, unmatched in diversity. It contains thousands of institutions and hundreds of thousands of college instructors, each granted significant autonomy to teach in different ways. Yet instead of learning from these differences we often ignore them. In our colleges and universities we've constructed the greatest engine of inquiry the world has ever known. That penetrating gaze is too infrequently directed inward, to know itself.