It’s been called academe’s last acceptable prejudice: that against rural, Southern students. And a new study supports that claim, suggesting that college students from Appalachia who speak a dialect feel made fun of or that they’re frequently corrected. Lead author Stephany Dunstan, the assistant director of the Office of Assessment at North Carolina State University, interviewed 26 students from rural, Southern Appalachia who attended an unnamed large research institution in the urban South. She asked about their experiences in college and their dialects, and performed vocalic analysis of several features typical to the Appalachian dialect. Many participants said they felt they had to work harder to prove to others on campus that they are intelligent and capable, “despite” their dialects, Dunstan said via email. “For some students this means that they code-switch (or change their speech) frequently or in some cases, categorically.”
Dunstan said a major implication of the study for faculty is to be “mindful in their courses that students of all dialect/language backgrounds are treated respectfully and feel comfortable using their own voices (for example, not feeling they must code-switch to a ‘standard’ variety to be taken seriously or respected).” It’s similarly important that faculty members who speak diverse dialects feel comfortable using them in class, so students hear them, she added.
Recent media coverage of the Accreditation Board for Engineering and Technology’s pre-proposed engineering criteria changes has raised concerns that some of the professional competencies may be removed from our accreditation criteria. In addition, many have incorrectly assumed that such changes are a fait accompli. The reality is there is no intent to reduce the professional competencies at all. Rather, we are in the early stages of discussion and opinion gathering on how to improve our accreditation criteria so they are more appropriately aligned with what students will need in the future to succeed in the evolving global economy.
Although discussions about potential criteria changes are in process, they have triggered heated debate regarding the importance of professional skills and abilities. We understand the concern and realize the enormous importance of these skills in an ever-changing multidisciplinary global environment. That is why we introduced them to our criteria in the mid-1990s and have strengthened them ever since. The primary purpose of these recent discussions was to improve the criteria: to make them richer in content, measurable and above all realistic. Additionally, in the spirit of continuous quality improvement, there was a concerted effort to streamline reporting requirements by programs undergoing accreditation.
Twenty years ago, we developed comprehensive criteria that have been adopted throughout the world as the standard for producing engineers who can lead and excel in an increasingly multidisciplinary world. In the intervening two decades, the world has changed, professions have evolved (and new ones emerged), while the rate of technological advancement has exploded. It is our responsibility, as the global accreditor of technical education, to examine our fundamental tenets -- the criteria -- to ensure they match the reality of today’s world, while leading us through the 21st century.
Our accreditation criteria were developed to provide programs with guidance on what’s expected from graduates of modern engineering programs. They were intentionally designed to be nonprescriptive, providing academic programs enough latitude so that they have the freedom to innovate. We are aware that academe is constantly examining ways to improve the educational experience for their students, and they must be able to build and modify their programs to meet an ever-changing world. This is a complex task, and for this reason, our criteria committee has been examining these topics very carefully for the past six years.
And while we welcome the vigorous discussions prompted by news coverage and an essay on this site, we want to reassure that, as we have done in the past, we will continue to provide opportunities for professional societies, faculty, industry and the general public to offer their inputs at every stage. For that purpose, a link is available, and we remain committed to engaging in a clear communication process that reaches our key stakeholders.
The wealth of input and opinions is incredibly valuable to our deliberations. This feedback has been influencing our criteria committee members’ decisions throughout this effort. On July 16, the criteria committee recommended selected changes in the proposal. These proposed changes were subsequently approved by the ABET Engineering Accreditation Commission. Now, this work will be sent to the ABET Board of Delegates for the first reading in October. If approved, the proposed changes will be released for public review and comment. We strongly believe that “continuous improvement is more productive than postponed perfection,” as the criteria committee noted during its recent meeting.
In closing, we cannot emphasize enough that it is not too late to provide comments at the ABET website at any time.
K. Jamie Rogers, professor of industrial and mechanical systems engineering at the University of Texas at Arlington, is the 2014-15 president of ABET.
Newark's Essex County College tried adaptive learning software to improve remedial math success rates. It hasn't worked, as students and faculty have struggled with the "self-regulated" approach to learning.
Alison Bechdel’s graphic memoir Fun Home has received critical raves. A musical adaptation has become a Broadway smash. Despite these successes, some students in Duke University’s incoming class refused to read Fun Home when it was placed on their recommended summer reading list. Citing the book’s acceptance of lesbian identity, these students said they believe that exposing themselves to Bechdel’s story will violate their Christian morals.
As a professor who has taught Fun Home in his classes for years, I would advise these students to rethink their positions. Most of my students who have engaged with Fun Home find many connections to Bechdel’s autobiography and are moved by it. Although her story may be unfamiliar, her work has much to offer, both emotionally and educationally.
Fun Home is on the syllabus of a course titled the Common Intellectual Experience (CIE) at Ursinus College in Pennsylvania, where I teach. All our first-year students take the course simultaneously, grouped into classes of approximately 16, each group with a different professor. They read the same books at the same time, write papers with the same deadlines and so on. The course provides students the opportunity to explore the human experience from a myriad of perspectives. In their first semester, they read work by authors such as Plato, Galileo and Descartes. Students ponder and discuss the course’s three main questions from the perspectives of these different authors: (1) What does it mean to be human? (2) What is the universe and how do we fit into it? (3) How should we live our lives? The college is rightly proud of this course, as it is a fine example of a liberal arts education, and I am happy to be a participant in it.
Fun Home is the first text of the second semester, a semester that also includes Freud, Marx and the Declaration of Independence. Bechdel’s book focuses on the author’s coming to terms with being a lesbian, dealing with the revelation of her father’s homosexuality and discovering the true nature of their “entwined stories.” It gives the second semester of the course a contemporary start and allows the students to view the CIE questions in fresh ways. The course is discussion based and students are encouraged to debate opposing viewpoints respectfully, to shape reasoned arguments with strong points of view and to learn from diversity of opinion. Fun Home provides excellent material for the students to talk about themes of identity, family, home and growing up.
Fun Home, as a college text, has experienced controversy even before the Duke students’ rejection. Last year, the South Carolina House of Representatives voted to cut funding to the College of Charleston because of its plan to place Bechdel’s book on a freshmen recommended reading list. State Representative Garry R. Smith said he believes that the memoir is inappropriate for students because it “graphically shows lesbian acts” and is “promoting the gay and lesbian lifestyle.”
I am proud that Ursinus chose Fun Home as a central text for our common course and that we did not shy away from it because of its controversial history in academia. In my experience, working with the text in the classroom has been educative and productive. The character of Alison, as presented in Bechdel’s witty and distinctive illustrations, starts as naïve and feeling limited. As she matures, she forges her identity, diverges from her parents and makes her mark in the world. Our 18-year-old students grapple with similar issues. They easily relate to Alison in a variety of ways. Many of the students at Ursinus come from small communities in Pennsylvania, just like Alison Bechdel. They read about a young woman whose world is increasingly becoming wider and more varied at just the moment when the same is happening to them. The author’s themes resonate with all the students regardless of their sexuality, religion or cultural background. Bechdel is a canny writer whose specific experiences translate well to a universal audience.
I have prepared myself each semester for student objections. There is a controversial panel in the book which depicts an intimate sexual moment from Bechdel’s college days. Instead of ignoring it, I have met the subject head-on and asked my students, “Do you believe, in context, that this illustration is pornographic?” In the multiple times I have raised this question, not one student has been offended by the image. These are 18-year-olds. Burgeoning sexuality is nothing new to them. Bechdel shares her story from a young person’s perspective and the students easily relate to her personal sexual explorations.
If students in my class were to refuse to read the book altogether, I would urge them to reconsider. Yes, they may find the story alien and opposed to their morality, but, as college students, they should embrace these differing views. Exposure will help them to understand the world better and to strengthen their own opinions. As a college community, we should not shy away from difficult or complex points of view. Ursinus’s CIE students have read sections of Hitler’s Mein Kampf, objectionable by anyone’s standards. Being shielded from offensive or outrageous material does not make it disappear. If students want to navigate the world after graduation, they need to expose themselves to the variety of human experience while in the safety of their college campus.
Objectors to Fun Home are being reductive when they focus solely on the memoir’s frank presentation of sexuality. Fun Home is so much more. In the right atmosphere, this book allows young people to open up about their own lives and to share their struggles. What does it mean to be human? How should we live our lives? These questions go from the abstract to the relevant when our CIE students discuss Fun Home in the classroom.
Alison Bechdel’s story will resonate with anyone who is grown up or is growing up. It is my sincere hope that the controversies surrounding the book will not stop it from being included on college reading lists. As our Ursinus students know, Bechdel is a wise teacher with much to teach all of us.
Domenick Scudera is professor of theater at Ursinus College.
An organic chemist I know tells her doctors that she is a professor of Southern literature whenever she is in the hospital. That’s because organic chemistry has come to symbolize all the irrelevant science hoops that premedical and medical students jump through on the way to becoming physicians. Today, we are told, medical students should be learning “people skills,” placing medicine in the context of the community and learning how individuals make choices related to their health. These preferences are reflected in the revised medical admissions test rolled out earlier this year, with its newly added questions related to sociology, psychology and the humanities. This summer, as interviews begin at medical schools around the country, candidates who want to make the final cut are sometimes playing down their science credentials in favor of their relational skills.
This seems to me to be a false dichotomy. To be sure, I want my physician to understand how to deal with me as an individual and as a member of my social group. But I also want her to appreciate the underlying molecular nature of disease and to know how to evaluate scientific and statistical evidence about clinical trials and treatments.
The movement away from science springs from a misunderstanding that is not limited to the premed curriculum. Many people have the experience of science taught as a series of isolated facts to be memorized. All physicians recall memorizing biochemical pathways for which they have no use past the final exam in a given course. If there were ever a time when memorization had a place, that time is gone. Facts are cheap and readily available on every smartphone and computer.
The truth is that science is about so much more than memorizing a set of facts. Practitioners with a solid scientific grounding are able to analyze data and put that data in context, rely on what is known from previous studies and extrapolate to the future, and understand how changing environmental conditions are reflected in bodily conditions.
I have taught biochemistry to medical and undergraduate students for over 30 years. Premedical students usually come into my classes expecting to memorize structures, nomenclature, and pathways and are a bit taken aback at the idea that there is anything to learn other than that. By examining experimental data and case studies they become familiar with the core of biochemistry and are able to go far beyond rote learning. Unfortunately I hear back from them once they are in professional schools that, “it was great that you taught us about concepts, but you should have had us memorize more since that is what we have to do here.” As long as the health professions emphasize the acquisition of facts rather than their application, science will be seen as dry, uncreative and mostly irrelevant to the “real” world.
Along with colleagues at Wellesley -- Lee Cuba and Alexandra Day -- I recently published a study of science majors at liberal arts colleges. Our major finding was that science majors who took many courses outside of the sciences were better able to make connections among disciplines. Some medical schools -- Mount Sinai in New York is a prominent example -- have begun recruiting humanities majors to their classes, requiring fewer science courses than for the typical applicant because they are thought to bring different strengths to the profession. This move is well intended, but it misses the point.
Privileging humanities majors in medical school admissions may inadvertently reinforce the opposition between the “soft skills” associated with humanists and the technical capabilities associated with scientists. Long before the health sciences became deeply specialized, renowned physicians such as Hippocrates, Maimonides, John Locke and John Keats were as much philosophers and poets as scientists. Although that kind of Renaissance career may no longer be practical, today a strong liberal arts education in both the arts and sciences provides the most effective preparation for the medical profession.
Medical schools would do better to recruit broadly educated science students who bring the complementary strengths of integration among disciplines and a deep grounding in the process of scientific discovery and analysis to their study and practice of medicine. If we want knowledgeable and competent doctors who are also well-rounded and compassionate individuals, we must stop treating the arts and sciences as mutually exclusive. We must help our students see the connections between what they are learning in the classroom and what they will practice in the “real world,” to see that organic chemistry and Southern literature are not irreparably separate, but that each may have a role in a medical education.
Adele Wolfson is Nan Walsh Schow and Howard B. Schow Professor of Physical and Natural Sciences and interim dean of students at Wellesley College.