Category Archives: Professional Development

Teaching for Learning: The Evolution of a Teaching Assistant

An average medical student, like myself, would agree that our first year in medical school is fundamentally different from our last, but not in the ways most of us would expect. Most of us find out that medical school not only teaches us about medicine but it also indirectly teaches us how to learn. But what did it take? What is different now that we didn’t do back in the first year? If it comes to choosing one step of the road, being a teaching assistant could be a turning point for the perception of medical education in the long run, as it offers a glimpse into teaching for someone who is still a student.

At first, tutoring a group of students might seem like a simple task if it is only understood as a role for giving advice about how to get good grades or how to not fail. However, having the opportunity to grade students’ activities and even listen to their questions provides a second chance at trying to solve one’s own obstacles as a medical student. A very interesting element is that most students refuse to utilize innovative ways of teaching or any method that doesn’t involve the passive transmission of content from speaker to audience. There could be many reasons, including insecurity, for this feeling of superficial review of content or laziness, as it happened for me.

There are, in fact, many educational models that attempt to objectively describe the effects of educating and being educated as active processes. Kirkpatrick’s model is a four-stage approach which proposes the evaluation of specific aspects in the general learning outcome instead of the process as a whole (1). It was initially developed for business training and each level addresses elements of the educational outcome, as follows:

Level 1- Reaction: How did learners feel about the learning experience? Did they enjoy it?
Level 2- Learning: Did learners improve their knowledge and skills?
Level 3- Behavior: Are learners doing anything different as a result of training?
Level 4- Results: What was the result of training on the business as a whole?

Later, subtypes for level 2 and 4 were added for inter-professional use, allowing its application in broader contexts like medicine, and different versions of it have been endorsed by the Best Evidence in Medical Education Group and the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Canada (1) (2). A modified model for medical students who have become teachers has also been adapted (3), grading outcomes in phases that very closely reflect the experience of being a teaching assistant. The main difference is the inclusion of attitude changes towards the learning process and the effect on patients as a final outcome for medical education. The need for integration, association and good problem-solving skills are more likely to correspond to levels 3 and 4 of Kirkpatrick’s model because they overcome traditional study methods and call for better ways of approaching and organizing knowledge.

Diagram 1- Modified Kirkpatrick’s model for grading educational outcomes of medical student teachers, adapted from (3)

These modifications at multiple levels allow for personal learning to become a tool for supporting another student’s process. By working as a teaching assistant, I have learned to use other ways of studying and understanding complex topics, as well as strategies to deal with a great amount of information. These methods include active and regular training in memorization, deep analysis of performance in exams and schematization for subjects like Pharmacology, for which I have received some training, too.

I am now aware of the complexity of education based on the little but valuable experience I have acquired until now as a teacher in progress. I have had the privilege to help teach other students based on my own experiences. Therefore, the role of a teaching assistant should be understood as a feedback process for both students and student-teachers with a high impact on educational outcomes, providing a new approach for training with student-teaching as a mainstay in medical curricula.

References

Roland D. Proposal of a linear rather than hierarchical evaluation of educational initiatives: the 7Is framework. Journal of Educational Evaluation for Health Professions. 2015;12:35.
Steinert Y, Mann K, Anderson B, Barnett B, Centeno A, Naismith L et al. A systematic review of faculty development initiatives designed to enhance teaching effectiveness: A 10-year update: BEME Guide No. 40. Medical Teacher. 2016;38(8):769-786.
Hill A, Yu, Wilson, Hawken, Singh, Lemanu. Medical students-as-teachers: a systematic review of peer-assisted teaching during medical school. Advances in Medical Education and Practice. 2011;:157.

The idea for this blog was suggested by Ricardo A. Pena Silva M.D., Ph.D. who provided guidance to Maria Alejandra on the writing of this entry.

María Alejandra is a last year medical student at the Universidad de Los Andes, School of Medicine in Bogota, Colombia, where she is has been a teaching assistant for the physiology and pharmacology courses for second-year medical students. Her academic interests are in medical education, particularly in biomedical sciences. She is interested in pursuing a medical residency in Anesthesiology. Outside medical school, she likes running and enjoys literature as well as writing on multiple topics of personal interest.

Why Teaching? Why a Liberal Arts school?

Why Teaching? Why at a Liberal Arts school? These are two questions that I am often asked. I used to give the standard answers. “I enjoy working with the students.” “I didn’t want to have to apply for funding to keep my job.” “A small, liberal arts school allows me to get to know the students.” But more recently those answers have changed.

A year or so ago, I returned to my undergraduate alma mater to celebrate the retirement of a biology faculty member who had been with the school for almost 50 years. As I toured the science facilities—which had been updated and now rival the facilities of many larger research universities—I reflected on where I had come from and how I came to be a biology professor at a small liberal arts school in Iowa.

I was born and raised in the suburbs of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. In fact my parents still live in the house they purchased before I was born. My parents valued education and believed it was their job to provide their three children with the opportunity to go to college. Because there were three of us, it was expected that we would attend college in Pennsylvania. At that time, the way to learn about colleges was to go to the guidance counselor’s office or to sift through all of the mailings that came to the house. One of the schools I chose to visit was Lebanon Valley College (LVC), a small, private, liberal arts institution in Annville, PA (central Pennsylvania). LVC had a strong biology program but my reasons for choosing LVC were I liked the campus, the school was neither too big nor too small, and it was far enough from home but not too far from home. That is how I ended up at LVC.

I was a biology major, pre-med my entire four years at LVC. The biology department at LVC was fantastic. The professors had high expectations, held students to these high expectations, and helped the students to reach those expectations. The professors gave me a solid background in the sciences and opportunities to work in a lab. Both the knowledge I gained and the lab experiences I had allowed me to succeed as a scientist. However, during my journey at LVC, I found that there was more to me than being a biology major or a Pre-Med student. From the beginning of my time at LVC, my professors saw something in me that I could not and chose not to see. My professors saw a person who loved to learn, a person who loved to explore, and a person who loved to share information. They saw an educator, a leader, and a communicator. But regardless of what they saw or what they said, I had to find these elements on my own and for myself.

During my time at LVC, I did not understand what the liberal arts meant or what the liberal arts represented. Back then if you had asked me if I valued the liberal arts, I probably would have said I have no idea. Even when I graduated from LVC, I did not realize the impact that my liberal arts education would have on me. It is only now when I reflect on my time at LVC that I can appreciate and value the impact that my liberal arts education had on the achievement of my goals. It was the courses that were required as a part of the liberal arts program and the professors who taught them that made me a better scientist. The writing and speech classes provided the foundation for my scientific communication skills that continued to develop after graduation. It was in these classes that the professors provided constructive feedback which I then incorporated into future assignments. The leadership, language, literature, philosophy, and art courses and professors provided opportunities to develop my ability to analyze, critique, and reflect. The religion courses taught me that without spirituality and God in my life, there was little joy or meaning to what I accomplished. The liberal arts program provided me with skills that were not discipline specific but skills utilized by many academic fields. These courses allowed the person who loved to learn, the person who loved to explore and ask questions, and the person who loved to share information to flourish. These courses taught me to value all experiences as opportunities to learn and to become a better person. Lebanon Valley College, through the people I met and the education I received, put me on the path to finding the elements that form my identity.

After graduation from LVC, I explored. I accepted a position as a research technician in a laboratory where I remained for three years. During that time, I improved my science skills, but I also had the opportunity to use and improve those other abilities I learned at LVC. After three years, I decided I wanted to go to graduate school. I loved asking new questions, performing experiments, and the feeling I had when an experiment worked and provided new information. I also liked working with students. I loved sharing information and guiding students through the process of learning. I applied to graduate school, was accepted, earned my Ph.D, and then completed two postdoctoral fellowships. My graduate advisor and postdoctoral advisors were supportive of me and allowed me to teach in addition to my research. After two successful postdoctoral fellowships, I had to decide where to go next. I chose teaching and I chose Clarke University. I chose teaching and specifically Clarke because I wanted to go back to my roots. I wanted to take the knowledge and skills I had attained and share them. I chose Clarke University because I saw similarities between it and LVC. I chose Clarke University because of its liberal arts heritage and its focus on the students.

Now, 10 years later, I am a guide for a new generation of students at Clarke University. While there are so many differences between my generation and this generation, I still see similarities. I see students eager to come to class so they can learn. I see students excited when they understand a difficult concept. I see students who want to make a difference in this world. I do not know what a student would say if I asked them if they valued their liberal arts education or me as their teacher. My guess is that many of them are just like I was and do not know what the liberal arts represent. Some might even say they do not value the liberal arts or the professors. I can only hope that one day, when the students I teach reflect on their undergraduate careers, they can recognize and appreciate the influence Clarke University, the liberal arts program, and their professors had on them. I know that without my professors and without my liberal arts experience at Lebanon Valley College, I would not be me—the educator, the scientist, the author, the leader, the life-long learner. Nor would I be me—the mother, the wife, the daughter, the sister, the friend, the colleague. Lebanon Valley College and my liberal arts education helped me become the person I am today.

Melissa DeMotta, PhD is currently an Associate Professor of Biology at Clarke University in Dubuque, IA. Melissa received her BS in biology from Lebanon Valley College. After working for three years at Penn State’s College of Medicine in Hershey, PA, she received her PhD in Physiology and Pharmacology from the University of Florida in Gainesville. Following postdoctoral fellowships at the University of Arizona and Saint Louis University, Melissa joined the Biology Department at Clarke University. Melissa currently teaches Human Physiology and Exercise Physiology to physical therapy graduate students and undergraduates. She also enjoys teaching non-majors life science courses as well.

Are you prepared – to prepare an “Olympian”?

Recently, the 2018 Winter Olympic Games came to a close. The games included a number of thrilling surprises (Red Gerard) and heart-breaking spills (figure skaters). Although medals awarded late in the Olympic schedule helped boost Team USA’s medal count, most would agree that the U.S.’s performance in PyeongChang fell below expectations. Looking for answers, TV commentators remarked that the US pipeline for development of Olympic athletes has diminished in recent years.

While taking in the splendor of the Olympic Games, I began to wonder…should we be training future scientists is a manner similar to our athletes? Is the pipeline for development of talent well established and supported? How do we get the American public to rally behind the performance of high performing physiologists? What if local businesses, and corporate sponsors proudly displayed “we employ future teachers, scientists, and health care providers”?

As an avid follower of the games, it became obvious to me that Olympic athletes cluster in specific regions of the US. The Gold medal men’s curling team included 4 men from Minnesota (3 from Duluth), and one from nearby Wisconsin. Three young Olympic snowboarders (Red Gerard, Kyle Mack, and Chris Corning) all hail from Silverthorne, Colorado. The city of Federal Way (located along Federal Highway U.S. 99 in Washington State) is an incubator of U.S. short-track speed skating talent, and has sent American speed skaters to the past five Winter Olympics (Ohno, Celski and Tran).

Is it possible that certain high schools and undergraduate institutions could be considered “incubators” for development of physiologists (scientists in general)? Can we consider our school a “hot bed” for training and development of those with a passion for science? As professionals, are we fulfilling our role to prepare our youth for their “Olympic” performance, or are we falling behind expectations?

To assist in preparing future physiologists, the American Physiological Society supports the “pipeline” by providing a number of programs and awards (see links below). However, these offerings require us to identify students and encourage and support their applications. We are called upon to build programs and opportunities that are sustainable, and produce measurable outcomes.

I have to admit that prior to writing this post, I had not FULLY considered my role in developing our future physiologists (Olympians). I personally pledge to re-evaluate my role, and hope to bring others into the conversation to ponder the questions posed.

In closing, I would ask you to consider a quote from former Olympic Gold medalist Mia Hamm, and think about specific and personal ways each of us can help build the fire, and light the match.

“I am building a fire, and every day I train, I add more fuel. At just the right moment, I light the match.” – Mia Hamm, American soccer player and gold medalist.

Undergraduate Awards
http://www.the-aps.org/mm/awards/Other-APS-Awards/Undergraduate

K-12 Awards
http://www.the-aps.org/mm/awards/Other-APS-Awards/K-12-Student

APS Science Fair Awards: APS members make APS awards at local or regional science fair at the elementary, middle, or high school level.
ISEF Awards: APS participates as a Special Awards Sponsor for the International Science and Engineering Fair (ISEF)

Program brochures for diversity and higher education:
http://www.the-aps.org/education/publications.aspx

Mari K. Hopper, PhD, is currently an Assistant Professor at Indiana University School of Medicine. In addition to teaching physiology in a variety of systems based courses, she serves as the Director of Research, Hospital Medical Education, and other Scholarly work. Prior to this position, she taught physiology based courses at the undergraduate level for over 20 years. She is currently on the HAPS Conference Site Selection Committee, Chair of the Chapter Advisory Committee of the American Physiological Society, and Past-President of the Indiana Physiological Society. Her research interests include both student academic engagement (active learning) and student health.

Sound Off! What is YOUR PECOP Wish List?

2014 was a notable year for physiology education: APS launched both the Institute on Teaching and Learning (ITL) (1) and the Physiology Educators Community of Practice (PECOP) (2, 3, 4, 5). Since then, the ITL has become a regular, recurring meeting (2016 and 2018), attracting a growing attendance.

Similarly, PECOP has grown in both depth and breadth:

supporting more than two dozen PECOP Fellows and Thought Leaders to attend the 2014 ITL and develop a strong foundational network;
holding regular networking sessions at the ITL and Experimental Biology;
engaging the PECOP community in writing more than 70 blog entries on a range of education topics in the Life Science Teaching Resource Community (LifeSciTRC);
promoting research collaborations among PECOP participants; and
engaging physiology educators in leadership roles (6, 7) such as:
- PECOP Blog Coordinator – Barbara Goodman, Sanford School of Medicine of The University of South Dakota;
- PhUn Week Blog Coordinator – Patricia Halpin, University of New Hampshire at Manchester;
- LifeSciTRC Community Review Editor – Lynn Diener, Mount Mary University;
- ITL Program Committees led by Barbara Goodman and Thomas Pressley, Texas Tech Univ. Health Sciences Center School of Medicine.

PECOP was supported initially by a one-year planning grant from the National Science Foundation Research Collaboration Network-Undergraduate Biology Education (RCN-UBE) Incubator program (Grant No. 1346220). In 2018, APS plans to submit a proposal for a five-year RCN-UBE grant to grow the PECOP network and activities. This growth will be guided and driven by the PECOP network of educators so we need to hear from YOU about what the PECOP community should do in the coming years. We have gathered three major ideas from previous PECOP networking sessions and ITL meeting discussions:

Help new educators get a good start.

At the 2014 ITL, we pilot tested a new APS Professional Skills Training program, “Becoming an Effective Teacher.” Results were excellent and, using our new Schoology LMS for online professional development, APS staff can adapt these excellent materials for online use. However, this would be a community-driven program that needs experienced educators to share their expertise and guide new educators onto the “evidence-based teaching” path.

2. Help experienced educators use “evidence-based teaching” more effectively.

Many of the ITL sessions and articles in both the PECOP blog and Advances in Physiology Education focus on using teaching methods that have strong evidence of their broad effectiveness. Other articles describe studies that compare methods or assess the effectiveness of methods in new teaching scenarios (diverse students, institutions, and courses). How can the PECOP community help colleagues who seek to increase the “evidence-base” of their teaching? The PECOP Fellows program helped a number of educators start on this path. Should we continue this program?

3. Help educators participate in scholarship of teaching and learning (SOTL).

While we are often adept at designing (or helping students design) experiments at the bench, we are often genuinely perplexed when designing an experimental study involving the uber-tricky subject, the classroom student. Students differ widely so what can serve as the “control” group for my class? How many subjects do I need? What IS the unit of study? The student? The class? The course? What should I measure? Is that measure reliable? Is it valid? And what are the appropriate statistical tests to use? A good way to being engaging in SOTL is the same way we learned about bench research…we collaborated with and learned from someone with greater expertise. Our PECOP community has already fostered research collaborations among members. How can we grow the number of research collaborations in our community?

What are YOUR ideas?

These are just THREE of the many goals we could set for PECOP. Now share YOUR thoughts! How should PECOP support the growth and development of the physiology education community in the coming years?

Reply to the discussion below or send your comments (by December 15) directly to me. Join us as we grow the PECOP community and support physiology educators!

Marsha Matyas is a biologist, educator, and science education researcher. For nearly 30 years, she has worked at scientific professional associations (AAAS and now APS) to promote excellence in science education at all levels and to increase diversity within the scientific community. Marsha’s research focuses on factors that promote science career interest and success, especially among women and underrepresented minorities. At the APS, Marsha directs the Education Office and programs, which span from pre-Kindergarten to professional development and continuing education for Ph.D. and M.D. scientists.

References:

What is the American Physiological Society’s ITL and who are the members of PECOP?

Barbara E. Goodman, Marsha Lakes Matyas, Advances in Physiology Education Jun 2016, 40 (2) 239-242; DOI:10.1152/advan.00045.2016.

Harnessing the power of an online teaching community: connect, share, and collaborate

Marsha Lakes Matyas, Dee U. Silverthorn, Advances in Physiology Education Dec 2015, 39 (4) 272-277; DOI: 10.1152/advan.00093.2015.

How do the Institutes on Teaching and Learning (ITLs) nurture the members of the Physiology Educators Community of Practice (PECOP)?

Barbara E. Goodman, Advances in Physiology Education Sep 2017, 41 (3) 354-356; DOI:10.1152/advan.00050.2017.

The pipeline of physiology courses in community colleges: to university, medical school, and beyond

Jenny McFarland, Pamela Pape-Lindstrom, Advances in Physiology Education Dec 2016, 40 (4) 473-476; DOI:10.1152/advan.00141.2016.

The Physiology Education Community of Practice (PECOP) wants YOU!

Goodman, B. (2014, November 1). Retrieved from: http://www.lifescitrc.org/resource.cfm?submissionID=11213.

Lurk or lead? The benefits of community participation

Marsha Lakes Matyas, Advances in Physiology Education Mar 2017, 41 (1) 145-148; DOI:10.1152/advan.00200.2016.

Educational leadership: benefits of stepping outside the classroom

Thomas A. Pressley, Advances in Physiology Education Sep 2017, 41 (3) 454-456; DOI:10.1152/advan.00083.2017.

What makes a good teacher?

I was intrigued to read this PECOP blog post on what makes a good teacher from December 2016. The post recommends that we reflect on our teaching at the end of the semester, and begin the process of understanding our teaching perspectives through the Teaching Perspectives Inventory. What makes a good instructor is something that is extremely relevant to me, because teaching happens to be my job and my passion.

I was recently prompted to think about this very question as I made contact with my former secondary school in Liverpool, U.K about being featured as a former pupil of theirs (I feel more than slightly uneasy about being featured together with John Lennon however!). I was stimulated to think about my former teachers and what I had learned from their teaching. I left the school over 20 years ago but can to this day recall specific teachers, moments in class, and things I learned inside and outside the classroom. Certainly, that’s the kind of learning I’d like my students to have 20 years after I’ve taught them!

As I reflect on the teaching that I had, several aspects popped out to me.

A love of teaching: My best teachers clearly loved teaching students. They enjoyed interacting with students, creating a rapport with us, which made the subject matter come to life and facilitated our engagement with the material. I have come to the realization that perhaps the most important aspect of teaching is to enjoy connecting with your students in order to create an effective learning environment. The saying of “they won’t care what you know until they know that you care” is somewhat cliché but it has a lot of truth to it. As a soccer coach in my spare time, I frequently reflect on the fact that if you don’t like kids, you shouldn’t coach youth soccer. In the same way, our teaching is unlikely to be as effective as it could be if we don’t like interacting with our students and enjoy teaching them.

Meeting students at their level: My English literature teacher taught us Pride & Prejudice, a text that many in my class found somewhat boring. My teacher perceived the boredom, and attempted to understand why it could be perceived as boring to my classmates. He then adapted his teaching to this in order to emphasize why the text was important. He attempted to bring the text to his students and make it relevant to them, rather than merely expecting students to engage, understand and enjoy the text automatically.

Adaptable: The best lesson I ever had was a history lesson. My teacher was a few minutes late, and as we all sat inside the classroom waiting for him, a dispute arose amongst two students in the class. The teacher came into the classroom and upon encountering the dispute, proceeded to set up a court to judge the basis of the evidence of the ‘crime’, as an example of the history of trials and determining justice. I have no idea if that was his intended lesson, but I was in awe of how the teacher adapted his lesson so perfectly to something that had just happened in the class. It is a reminder to me to be observant and adapt to issues that our students may be experiencing.

Practical: One of the most salient things I learned came from a teacher who was supervising me as I visited potential colleges. We were looking for somewhere to eat dinner one evening, and as we walked past various eating establishments, he gave me the advice of “never eat in an empty restaurant”. This has stuck with me ever since and I apply it frequently when deciding where to eat. It was practical advice on something that I had never before considered, and the ‘light bulb’ lit up for me. Reflecting on this, I see our role as teachers to help our students see beyond the immediate – to analyze and think critically about what we see with our eyes, and to help them consider what things mean. Finally, what we teach them must also be practical and relevant.

From these reflections, I have come to the realization that a good teacher is someone who is able to adapt to where our students are in terms of the knowledge that they come with, and take them to higher levels of learning that they cannot get to on their own.

What is your definition of a good teacher?

Hugh Clements-Jewery PhD is currently Visiting Research Associate Professor and M1 Course Director in Physiology at the University of Illinois College of Medicine in Rockford, IL, starting in November 2016. Prior to moving to the University of Illinois, he taught medical physiology at the West Virginia School of Osteopathic Medicine from 2007 to 2016. He is a certified trainer-consultant in Team-Based Learning.

Good Teaching: What’s Your Perspective?

Are you a good teacher?

What qualities surround “good teachers?

What do good teachers do to deliver a good class?

The end of the semester is a great time to critically reflect on your teaching.

For some, critical reflection on teaching is prompted by the results of student course evaluations. For others, reflection occurs as part of updating their teaching philosophy or portfolio. Others use critical reflection on teaching out of a genuine interest to become a better teacher. Critical reflection is important in the context of being a “good teacher.”

Critical reflection on teaching is an opportunity to be curious about your “good teaching.” If you are curious about your approach to teaching I encourage you to ponder and critically reflect on one aspect of teaching – perspective.

Teaching perspectives, not to be confused with teaching approach or styles, is an important aspect on the beliefs you hold about teaching and learning. Your teaching perspectives underlie the values and assumptions you hold in your approach to teaching.

How do I get started?

Start by taking the Teaching Perspectives Inventory (TPI). The TPI is a free online assessment of the way you conceptualize teaching and look into your related actions, intentions, and beliefs about learning, teaching, and knowledge. The TPI will help you examine your views about and within one of five perspectives: Transmission, Apprenticeship, Developmental, Nurturing, and Social Reform.

What is your dominant perspective?

The TPI is not new. It’s been around for over 15 years and is the work of Pratt and Collins from the University of British Columbia (Daniel D. Pratt and John B. Collins, 2001)(Daniel D. Pratt, 2001). Though the TPI has been around for a while, it is worth bringing it up once more. Whether you are a new or experienced teacher, the TPI is a useful instrument for critical reflection on teaching especially now during your semester break! Don’t delay. Take the free TPI to help you clarify your views on teaching and be curious.

Resources

Teaching Perspectives Inventory – http://www.teachingperspectives.com

How to interpret a teaching perspective profile – https://youtu.be/9GN7nN6YnXg

Daniel D. Pratt and John B. Collins. (2001). Teaching Perspectives Inventory. Retrieved December 01, 2016, from Take the TPI: www.teachingperspectives.com/tpi/

Daniel D. Pratt, J. B. (2001). Development and Use of The Teaching Perspectives Inventory (TPI). American Education Research Association.

Jessica M. Ibarra, is an Assistant Professor of Applied Biomedical Sciences in the School of Osteopathic Medicine at the University of the Incarnate Word. She is currently teaching in the Master of Biomedical Sciences Program and helping with curriculum development in preparation for the inaugural class of osteopathic medicine in July 2017. As a scientist, she studied inflammatory factors involved in chronic diseases such as heart failure, arthritis, and diabetes. When Dr. Ibarra is not conducting research or teaching, she is mentoring students, involved in community service, and science outreach. She is an active member of the American Physiological Society and helps promote physiology education and science outreach at the national level. She is currently a member of the Porter Physiology and Minority Affairs Committee; a past fellow of the Life Science Teaching Resource Community Vision & Change Scholars Program and Physiology Education Community of Practice; and Secretary of the History of Physiology Interest Group.

The Benefits of Having Nontraditional Age Students in Your Classes

If asked the traditional age of a college student, most people would answer between 18-22 years old. While for many colleges this is accurate, at our college we have some students that are above the age of 22, and designated nontraditional age students (Nontrads). These students are enrolling at an older age for several reasons. Some have had other careers, and finally mustered up the courage to start fulfilling their dream of getting a college degree. These students could also be the first in their family to go to college, and are designated First Generation students. Others started college at the traditional age, and then stopped attending (stopped out). The reasons for stopping out vary, and could be for academic reasons, financial instability, or family obligations. Some are transfer students that work full time, have been taking one or two courses a semester at a community college, and are now moving on to a four year college. A fourth group are military veterans. These students served in the military for several years and are now just beginning their college careers. A final group are students who earned a Bachelor’s degree at a traditional age, had a career, and are now back to take prerequisites for graduate or professional school.

The course where I see the greatest mix of all these students is in Principles of Biology I & II. These are the required courses for first year science majors on our campus. In a room full of students, the Nontrads can sometimes make up 20% of the class enrollment. This provides a unique environment that I really enjoy. While some of the Traditional age students might be intimidated at first to have an older student sit next to them, as the professor standing in the front of the room I have a different perspective. What I see when I look at the Nontrads is typically someone who is engaged from the first day of class, and ready to get to work. These students have had life experiences, and they know without a doubt that the college classroom is where they want to be at this point in their lives. They are focused and want to get the most out of this experience. Usually a Nontrad is the first to answer my questions, or raise their hands on the very first day of class. For me that first day experience is very important for all the students and getting them past the barrier of participating in class is important. Having a Nontrad start off right away by participating is a joy and the beginning of forming a community that is open to discussions. I encourage their engagement and this leads to more positive interactions. These interactions benefit the Nontrad as they may be a bit uncertain about starting college at an older age and getting the reassurance from the professor early helps ease their minds while building their confidence. It is no surprise that the Nontrads are the students whose names I learn first and then call on them by name (Student A). One pitfall is that they will start answering every question I ask, and to gently discourage this I will say to the entire class “Now Student A cannot answer all the questions, come on folks who wants to answer this question?” This allows me to get different students involved in the class without discouraging others.

Another unique quality found in the Nontrad student population is that they are not concerned about the test. Everyone knows what I mean by this, students that only want to understand and perhaps memorize information that they will be tested on in a few weeks. The Nontrads want to understand what they are learning at a deeper level and they find connections to the material that most of the Traditional students would not initially make. They bring their life experiences into the classroom and it benefits everyone. Some of our students want to go on to careers in health care (PA, MD, OD), and I often have Nontrads in the class who are currently working part time (or full time) as paramedics, emergency medical technicians (EMTs), or they were a medic in the military. They bring in real life examples of some of the principles that we are going over in class. I love to hear these stories as they bring the concepts to life for the entire class. These stories benefit all of us as they capture the attention of the students, engage them, and also provide me with yet another example of the concept we are discussing.

For the Traditional age student, the Nontrads are often active mentors to them in the classroom. During a break in class I will see the Nontrad explaining concepts to the Traditional age student sitting next to them. If the Traditional age student is receptive to this mentoring it will continue to occur throughout the semester. Being mentored by a Nontrad benefits the Traditional age student as they will then understand the material at a deeper level and any misconceptions can be addressed during class time. Mentoring benefits the Nontrad as they gain confidence in their knowledge. Because of this positive experience some of the Nontrads will become tutors in our tutoring center the following year.

I enjoy sharing stories about the Nontrads who have had interesting lives before they came to our college and will share a few favorites with you. One was a diamond broker, and then a massage therapist, before majoring in science. She will earn her Ph.D. in Biochemistry next year. Our commencement speaker last year was a plumber, who became a member of Phi Beta Kappa and won the Beta Chapter award for the highest GPA at our university. He is now in an MD-Ph.D. program. Our biology program award winner for the previous year was a diesel engine mechanic, who had attended every community college in the state before switching his focus to science. He is now in his first semester of a Ph.D. program in microbiology. The final example I will share is of our convocation speaker a few years ago. He told family and friends he did not need college, as he was going to be a rock star. After getting married, having two children, and realizing he did need college, he came to us after getting an Associate’s degree at a community college. He earned his Bachelor’s degree with a 4.0 GPA and is now in his second year of dental school. Having Nontrad students in the classroom benefits them, their classmates, and their professors. I am continually grateful they have decided to attend our college and look forward to having them in my classes in the future.

Patricia A. Halpin is an Assistant Professor in the Life Sciences Department at the University of New Hampshire at Manchester (UNHM). Patricia received her MS and Ph.D. in Physiology at the University of Connecticut. She completed a postdoctoral fellowship at Dartmouth Medical School. After completion of her postdoc she started a family and taught as an adjunct at several NH colleges. She then became a Lecturer at UNHM before becoming an Assistant Professor. She teaches Principles of Biology, Endocrinology, Cell Biology, Animal Physiology, Global Science Explorations and Senior Seminar to undergraduates. She has been a member of APS since 1994 and is currently on the APS Education committee and is active in the Teaching Section. She has participated in Physiology Understanding (PhUn) week at the elementary school level in the US and Australia. She has presented her work on PhUn week, Using Twitter for Science Discussions, and Embedding Professional Skills into Science curriculum at the Experimental Biology meeting and the APS Institute on Teaching and Learning.

Closing the Circle: How being faculty at a liberal arts college made me a better medical physiologist

Happy Halloween!

As I look back upon my career as a faculty member at both a liberal arts college and several medical schools, I’ve come to the realization that this holiday is not a bad analogy for some things we all are familiar with—surprises both good and bad, sometimes a little scary… and at the journey’s end, a reflection of our perceived world and ourselves.

Example: 20 years ago last month, I started my first faculty position as an Assistant Professor of Biology at a small liberal arts college. Walking into that first classroom on the first day of classes was pretty frightening, because I did not know it all. As a graduate of a medical-level physiology Ph.D. program I had a solid background in the teaching of physiology, having taught it in lecture and/or lab to students in dental hygiene, nursing, dental, medical, and graduate programs. But I’d never taken gross anatomy or histology. So in that first Anatomy and Physiology class I was going to have to be an “expert” in both topics to students who had no reason to think I wasn’t. The horror of it all to me.

I spent a good deal of my first semester staying one week ahead of the students in those weak areas. In the next semester, it was Microbiology in which I was deficient. I had only taken one undergraduate microbiology course 14 years before, and unlike anatomy or histology there had been little cross-learning of this topic with physiology in graduate school, so I was on my own. I had help of course, including experienced faculty and excellent teaching resources that came with the textbooks. But it was a long way out of my comfort zone. In fact, it was downright frightening! As the years went by, I put on many other hats, some of which were better fits than others. I taught general biology, biochemistry, genetics, cell biology, and personal health, among other courses offered to a dozen biology majors and a few hundred non-majors. From being trained as a Physiologist, I had become a Biologist.

So what were the lessons I learned at this liberal arts college? The first was this: That it is possible to teach what many medical schools of the day would have been considered an insane teaching load of 16-20 contact hours with students per week instead of 16-20 contact hours per year. Second, it is not necessary to be THE expert on a topic in order to teach it well. Third, to achieve this adequacy required being very flexible and willing to learn new things. For example, while I couldn’t actually replace an ecologist in the planning and leading of field trips, I could teach enough of the basic principles to satisfy the needs of students in a Biology II class. This involved working with the ecologists on the staff, even following them into the field to see and experience how they looked at the biological sciences. The final lesson I learned, though I learned it late, was that there are always opportunities to be a scientist. That not all research takes place in the laboratory or the clinic. That being a teacher and being a scientist need not be an either-or career choice. That the principles of science could be applied to the science and art of teaching itself.

After several years at this liberal arts college, I made the life-changing decision to start medical school on a part-time-student-part-time-teacher basis, at a Caribbean location. While I never did get an M.D., my faculty experience at this medical school led to other full time faculty positions at both allopathic and osteopathic medical schools. And out there, working up from smaller medical schools to larger ones, I learned still more. For two years before I joined my current institution, I taught medical physiology from 8-10 a.m. five days a week, assisted in the anatomy lab another four hours, and lectured in a premedical prep course for another 8-10 hours per semester. Completely unlike anything I had done before, I had to teach a medical physiology course three times per year as the sole instructor. By necessity I relearned physiology as an entire discipline to a level close to what I’d known as I was finishing up my first year as a graduate student. I became able to teach any physiology topic at the medical level with little to no advance prep, again adequately but not necessarily at the research specialist level. The flip side was that as the only physiologist, there was essentially no time off for anything else including travel, conferences, or research.

From this experience I learned that it is possible to be a sole medical physiologist with the same teaching load as that taught at the undergraduate level. If necessary, one can have at least 14 contact hours per week to medical students and an additional 1-2 hours over several weeks each semester to premedical students and still teach well. I firmly believe that had I not had seven years of teaching experience as a multidisciplinary biologist at the undergraduate level, I would have found it much harder be able to teach all aspects of physiology at the medical level at such an intense pace. Just as I had had to do at the liberal arts college, I worked 16-18 hour days that first semester to stay two weeks ahead of the students. Each semester after that I worked 12 hour days to try to keep up with the demand of keeping lecture content and other materials updated, write 75 new exam items every three weeks, and perform all the other duties required of an associate professor at a tiny school. Along the way I finally overcame the self-concept built in from graduate training that I was an “endocrine physiologist” or a “reproductive physiologist” or a “gastrointestinal physiologist” or any other specialist physiologist based on the research I was doing. And in so doing I did acquire a specialty after all… I became a specialist at being a “generalist” whole-body physiologist, as well as a specialist in physiology education!

It was these specialties, honed from the lessons in adaptability first learned at the liberal arts college, which I brought to both my current medical school and to an osteopathic medical college in the United States. But my lessons weren’t done. Both of these medical programs use an integrated curriculum, which was far different from anything I had experienced before. Prior to helping design the integrated curricula of both schools, I had never had significant teaching-level interactions with either histologists, biochemists, pathologists, or clinical medicine faculty despite our having been colleagues for years. Now not only was I going to interact with them, I was going to have to be able to discuss pathology with medical students with enough competency to help explain how the physiology dovetailed into it and both of them into clinical conditions/presentations. I was going to have to do the same thing with microbiology, anatomy, histology, biochemistry, and pharmacology to appreciate the whole-system approach to medical education.

So once again, I dove into the new challenges of adapting to this integrated organ-system driven curriculum. For the first time, I came to understand across several organ systems how the clinical medicine was driven by pathology and that driven by the four foundations of gross anatomy, microanatomy, physiology, and biochemistry. But the focus of any integrative approach would always be first and foremost the clinical aspect of these four foundations in disorders and compensations because that’s what our students were ultimately trying to master. Bringing the balance in teaching the appropriate level of physiology in such a systems-based curriculum while ultimately keeping the clinical focus was a challenge I had never before faced.

And this is what brings me back almost full circle to my days as a young assistant professor at a tiny liberal arts school. Instead of having teaching resources located in a set of supplements to a textbook, I have access to several specialists in each discipline, all of whom are focused on the same tasks for their respective fields. And yet, in a curious sort of way I have become a Biologist again, albeit a medical biologist.

To illustrate this, I’ll give a short example. At my current institution we have a curriculum in which organ systems are split into a first-or-second semester component and a third-or-fourth semester component. In one lecture I deliver in second semester Endocrine Systems, I deliver a significant portion of the basic science content for the hypothalamus and pituitary gland. In the initial preparation for this lecture, I incorporate materials prepared by our module’s microanatomist (a neuroscientist by training) and from our module’s pathologist which mentions those pathologies most appropriate for students at this level to learn. When I then stand before the class as the lecture presenter, I deliver not only physiology content but this other content as well. As I do so, I am reminded of those times so many years ago now when I was just as far out of my field, delivering the details of dense connective tissue to biology majors, the presentation of viral gastrointestinal disorders to nursing students, or the principles of public health to non-majors.

The story is the same really. We are all alike now, the physiologists of the undergraduate and the medical teaching world. We have much to share with one another, and much to learn from one another. And you know, that’s not really a scary thought at all. Happy Halloween anyway.

Bruce Wright is a professor in the Department of Physiology at Ross University School of Medicine in the Commonwealth of Dominica, West Indies. Bruce received his doctorate in Physiology from Louisiana State University Health Sciences Center in New Orleans. Following two postdoctoral fellowships he taught at Thomas University in Thomasville, GA. He also taught at the Medical College of the Americas in St. Kitts and Nevis, West Indies, the University of Sint Eustatius School of Medicine in the Netherlands Antilles, West Indies, and the Alabama College of Osteopathic Medicine in Dothan, AL. Bruce has been a regular member of the APS for 22 years, most of those with the Teaching section as his primary affiliation. Bruce has served as Treasurer/Events and Awards Coordinator of the APS Teaching of Physiology Section since 2015. He has presented work at EB and the APS ITL on APS learning objectives, novel teaching strategies and item objective formats, integrated curriculum design and implementation, and challenges in preserving physiology content in integrated curricula.

Diary of an Adventure Junkie: Be Daring…Step Outside Your Comfort Zone!

I love adventures, don’t you? In fact, I love them so much that I am convinced that an adventure can happen anywhere and anytime. I am a world traveler, the silly shopper who throws items into the grocery cart the length of the aisle just to make my daughter laugh, I geocache and I jump in rain puddles…but sometimes the excitement of an unknown adventure turns into anxiety and fear. Like most people, I have had my fair share of anxiety about the unknown…starting graduate school, moving, becoming a parent, my first faculty position. However, stepping outside of your comfort zone and trying something new can often have fantastic results. In fact, physiology, the foundation of my professional adventures, is actually perfectly designed to help us achieve, when we place ourselves just outside of our comfort zone.

Upon completion of my postdoctoral fellowship, I found myself embarking on a series of new adventures…motherhood, moving and monetary-insufficiency. At this juncture, monetary-insufficiency demanded that I find a fount of funds and quickly, so I applied for a physiology teaching position at a brand-new, doors-opening-soon medical school. With so many non-professional challenges already on my plate, many asked why I would choose to start my career at a start-up institution. The answers are simple…the job was in my hometown, it moved me from unemployed to employed and I had the chance to build a program and my career simultaneously from the ground up. Building two sand castles at the same time was certainly pushing me over the edge of my comfort zone.

I decided immediately that I needed to make physiology interactive. I did not want to reinvent the wheel and instead felt I could tap into a fellow physiologist’s methods and have students answer real-time questions in class with colored-construction paper. My hope was that this interactive way of lecturing would benefit me as a new teacher and allow me to know when my students understood the lecture material and when they didn’t. I proposed my idea to a few of the basic scientists on faculty with me and was met with a lot of, “well, you can try that it you want to,” coupled with doubtful looks. Maybe I shouldn’t pursue this after all…I need everyone’s approval, right?

Without full support from senior faculty, I watched my comfort zone slipping away like the receding tide. But I am an adventure junkie, so steeled with my ever present resolve, I marched down the hall to my first lecture. I handed out four sheets of paper, red, blue, green and purple, to each entering student, admonished them not to lose the papers and dimmed the lights. The lecture started and up popped the first question. “Vote with confidence!” I cried after I had read the question stem. Hesitantly, hands were raised and an answer was given in the form of colored-construction paper. I explained why the answer the majority had given was correct and my comfort zone came slinking back towards me. After a few more questions, the comfort zone of the class slowly reentered the auditorium and we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Our newest adventure no longer evoked feelings of anxiety and physiology became interactive in our school. Soon, thereafter other faculty wanted to poll students during lecture, I was commended for starting the movement and the school adopted an electronic audience response system. But now what?

Shortly after beginning my faculty position, I knew I wanted to engage K12 children in science and began participating in PhUn week. I started small, 25 students in one classroom. I felt comfortable with these students, managed by their teacher, while l was partially shielded by my fellow physiologists; but I knew that many more would push me to the edge of my comfort circle, where the waves of anxiety waited to lap over me. With each year of involvement, the number of participants and my comfort with them grew, expanding my comfort zone and forcing the waves out with the tide. I connected with a local first-grade teacher who invited me to work with her class and facilitate their discovery of the special senses and germ transmission. Then it happened…the wave crashed over me and I was rolling, tossing and being pulled down by the riptide. The upcoming project with one first-grade class had been expanded, “Please include all of the first-grade and the kindergarten classes too,” she said, “800 students in all.” 800! I can’t manage 800 students. Fearing I would disappoint the young scientists-in-the-making, I agreed. My comfort zone however, was on hiatus, minus an internet, telephone or even smoke signal connection. I started the plotting and planning, recruiting volunteers, creating a schedule for each of the classes, buying supplies and encountering sleepless nights of worry. The day of the Human Body Fair arrived, as did I, full of inward worry and outward energy. After two days, 800 students, 40 volunteers, 6 physiology stations and innumerable cups of coffee, my comfort zone telephoned and said, “See, I knew you could do this with just a little push.”

All of these adventures have created anxiety and fear and ultimately feelings of satisfaction. Sometimes I feel like my comfort zone took a trip to the beach without me, but it always comes back and I am always a better person for having let it take a vacation. Now, as I swim towards my next adventure, a life outside of traditional academia, I know that while I may submerge at times, my head will always bob back up above the water and ride the waves.

Jessica C Taylor is a physiologist, medical educator and adventure seeker. For the past six years she has served as a member of the physiology faculty at the William Carey University College of Osteopathic Medicine. Outside of the classroom she focuses on K12 outreach, presenting science to the general public and encouraging young women to pursue careers in science and healthcare. Her comfort zone is currently being washed out to sea as she leaves her current university in pursuit of other scientific arenas. Hopefully, she will be safely back in the zone soon.

Confessions of a Frequent Lurker: Getting What You Need from Online Communities

As one of the founding leaders of PECOP, I’m always exhorting people to “Engage! Get involved! Comment! Rate! Review! Contribute!” But today I willingly confess: I am an online lurker. It’s not as shocking as it sounds. I’m part of the >90% of people who go to online communities to get information but rarely share or contribute. For example, I spent the last half hour at Overstock.com shopping for a cushion for my outdoor chair. I found the product I wanted easily and spent the next 15 minutes reading reviews at both Overstock and Amazon to see whether previous purchasers (e.g., the customer “community”) thought the cushion was worth the money. One lady offered up the history of her patio décor…pretty useless. But most reviews were short, to the point, and valuable. My “lurking” led me to feel confident about the purchase so I bought the cushion. In the last year, I have used online communities to “research” all kinds of purchases from shoes to cars to plumbing services. More importantly, I “lurk” at online communities to learn about services, apps, journals, organizations, and publications.

What’s wrong with being a lurker? Absolutely nothing! It’s one of the five phases of community membership as described by Kim (2006) and Noff:

Lurkers: those who visit infrequently, read, but never participate (i.e., comment or submit new content)
Novices: those who are new and are seeking to learn the rules of the community and how to participate
Insiders: those who participate regularly in the community
Leaders: those who not only participate, but encourage interaction and engagement by others
Elders: those who are leaving the community due to changes in personal interests, changes in the community, etc.

Lurkers also are the dominant group in community membership. In 2006, the Nielsen Norman Group found that 90% of online community members are lurkers, 9% of members comment occasionally and only 1% of members actively contribute significant content. More recent data suggests that engagement is increasing and, by 2011, engagement looked more like 70-20-10 for lurkers-commenters-content creators. But the vast majority of members are still primarily lurkers.

Why do so many of us lurk rather than engage in online communities? Blogger Joel Lee suggests that many feel they have nothing worthy to contribute while others fear negative reactions to their comments or questions. Alternatively, as a commenter to Lee’s blog noted, users may simply have better things to do with their time than to engage.

However, for professional networking, online community use is growing. A recent survey by the Society of New Communication Research (SNCR) found that people spend much more of their online time in professional networks than with friends or family. And when asked what online channels they use to share information with colleagues, social networking (25%), microblogging (e.g., Twitter, 28%), and direct email (31%) comprised the top three methods and were surprisingly comparable in frequency.

Why engage, comment, or contribute? The SNCR survey found that the top two reasons people moved from lurker to participant were:

To help others by sharing information, ideas, and experiences; and
To participate in a professional community of colleagues and peers.

How do YOU choose? Where do you lurk? Where do you contribute? And where do you lead?

Personally, I lurk at sites where I’m considering buying something, taking a course, going to visit…essentially where I’m a consumer and have limited expertise to offer. I contribute to sites that I use regularly for travel or business. Friends know I’m a frequent TripAdvisor reviewer and share science news on my Facebook page. My APS colleagues know I use Vivino to select and submit reviews of wines for APS committee dinners. I lead at those sites where I fill a specific role (e.g., my church’s Facebook page). Of course, here at the LifeSciTRC, I get to do a lot of leading and contributing!

What do we gain by contributing? Kollock (1999) says active users receive more useful help than do lurkers. He also states that visible and useful contributions lead to a positive reputation in the community and that actively contributing helps users feel that they have a real impact on their communities. For me, it’s all about give and take. I receive a steady stream of helpful information from online communities…I try to return the favor. And I learn how to use social media by contributing. It really demystifies the whole process.

Have you had good or bad experiences through lurking, commenting, or contributing to a community? Please share on the bulletin board below…let’s keep the conversation going. After all, this OUR PECOP community!

In the meantime, I’ll wait for my chair cushion to arrive. I will receive several emails from Overstock.com asking me to review it. If I like the cushion, I will be inclined to ignore the emails, but I really should write a review. Of course, if the cushion is rubbish, I will most certainly, in the words of Captain Picard, ”Engage!”

Resources

Kollock, P. The economies of online cooperation: Gifts and public goods in cyberspace. In M. Smith and P. Kollock (Eds.), Communities in Cyberspace. London: Routledge.