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As a parent who recently borrowed a shocking amount of money to pay for our son's first year at a state university, I couldn't believe what I was reading:
Forty-five percent of college undergraduates fail to improve in critical thinking, reasoning and writing abilities during their first two years. A little more than a third show no significant improvement in these broad-based skills after four years in college.
These grim statistics come from a new book, "Academically Adrift: Limited Learning on College Campuses" by Richard Arum, a sociology and education professor at New York University, and Josipa Roksa, an assistant sociology professor at the University of Virginia.
The authors based their findings on a longitudinal study of 2,300 students. The students were tested through the Collegiate Learning Assessment at the beginning of their freshman year and again at the end of sophomore year.
You can argue against the validity of the findings, but the professors' conclusions still left me ready to fetch my kid and put him to work in a carwash.
What's the point? Isn't this — critical thinking, reasoning and writing — what college is all about?
When my two boys were in grade school, I rejected the notion that rote memorization was the best way to learn. Other parents at the time demanded a return to a "core curriculum," a philosophy that on its face seems reasonable but often translates into tedious attempts at teaching to the test. My husband and I wanted our children foremost to learn to love learning, to enjoy reading and to savor problem-solving.
They fortunately experienced some wonderful teachers — creative types who pushed them to analyze literature, history and statistics, not simply memorize times, dates and places.
They learned to debate viewpoints in class, and often voiced surprise at how some classmates took political positions that they couldn't back up with facts — presumably because they were echoing a parent's hard-core belief.
In truth, families play a large role in the sociologists' findings. The professors are in part to blame, but not entirely.
Our culture sets narrow expectations. Often, we view a college degree as a ticket to a high-paying job or measure of status, and ignore the overarching skills to be gained along the way. Some students funneled into college probably shouldn't be there at all — at least, not until they have some personal interest or investment in it.
For many, college is a rite of passage, an invitation to party and pick up some life skills along the way, such as how to live with a sloppy roommate. Frankly, for the cost of tuition, I expect more.
Frederick Hoxie, a history professor at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, said that the study, as imperfect as it may be, underscores the need for an interactive classroom "with a faculty member who, through back-and-forth exchanges, can challenge fuzzy thinking, unmask simplistic reasoning, and correct shoddy writing."
He maintains that budget cuts and growing class sizes make it difficult for teachers to spend time working with and challenging individual students. While no definitive data is available on class sizes, it stands to reason that public universities have cut class sections and crammed more students into lecture halls to save money, according to Don Sevener, spokesman for the Illinois Board of Higher Education.
"Unfortunately, many in the public and, unfortunately, in higher education as well, believe that learning simply involves the acquisition of skills or the imposition of personal discipline," e-mailed Hoxie, who taught one of my son's classes last semester.
Recalling my own years in college, I realize that I, too, asked little from my teachers. I was just happy to be there, despite a few truly lousy professors — including one who used his radio-television class at the University of Texas at Arlington as a forum to bash gays. He spent one class period drawing pictures of the male and female anatomies on a blackboard to make his point.
How I wish I could go back in time and challenge him instead of sitting dully through class, accepting this professor as "eccentric."
I think of how I rejoiced when one professor routinely didn't show up for classes, as it made my week easier. Later, as a more serious, time-challenged graduate student, I would never have tolerated that behavior.
In "Academically Adrift," the authors found that students don't read or write very much, and that they gained more knowledge by studying alone rather than in peer groups. In a review of student surveys, they found that 32 percent of students do not take courses that require more than 40 pages of reading per week. Half of the students managed to avoid any courses that demand more than 20 pages of writing over a semester.
Are the professors afraid to fail students or do they feel pressured to move them along? Arum and Roksa push for instructors to beef up their academic expectations and focus less on extracurricular activities associated with college.
Yet I suspect that many of us remember college more for the drinking parties, macaroni-and-cheese marathons and overnight cramming sessions.
While I am pleased that my son is motivated to learn, I confess that I take pride in his other new skills, as well.
Just this week, he e-mailed me a photograph of his latest accomplishment:
A homemade dish of Thai chili-marinated chicken with brown rice.
Copyright © 2011, Chicago Tribune
