Teaching Philosophy and Practice
Every woman in my branch of the family tree has been a teacher of some kind. I grew up absolutely certain I would never be a teacher. I was going to break the mold and be a scientist! How could I have known that on the way to becoming a researcher, I would find that I actually loved the process of teaching the science more? Teaching shares many similarities with scientific research. Both require creative thinking, continuing education, and working as a team towards a common goal. But only the act of teaching gives you the opportunity to be present for the light bulb moment, to help a student find the fuel for their curiosity that will carry them through the course. This is the moment that I as an educator work toward– when the missing piece clicks into place and all the other wheels start turning.
All of my teaching load is at the introductory level, specifically Astronomy 120/121 and Physics labs 102/103/202/203/502/503. Some faculty prefer to avoid introductory courses, but I find them really meaningful because I can teach from a place of excitement, determined to show students how cool and not-scary these subjects can be. Astronomy is mind-blowing. The scales are unimaginable. You cannot take it into a lab and change the parameters like you can in other sciences. You are limited to the photons you can collect at the moment they arrive on earth. What can you know with such a seemingly small amount of information? Physics labs, on the other hand, are an engineering puzzle waiting for students to begin piecing together. How should you measure the observable parameters in order to calculate the measurement you are interested in? Once you have that value, what does it mean in the real world? How can one quantify the effects of moving from an ideal environment to reality?
Teaching Philosophy: Why do I teach and what is most important in my courses?
​
My philosophy of teaching begins with the premise that anyone can have light bulb moments learning science. They may come to the course kicking, screaming, and dreading every second of it, but the moment they decide they want to learn, all the doors of knowledge are open. The amazing thing about physics is it is unavoidable! It lives everywhere in your everyday life, which means there are uncountable opportunities to draw from. In my experience, once you show a student something unexpected, or touch on a topic they recognize as a part of their life but one they have never understood, they ask a question: why? ‘Why’ is the gateway. It is curiosity, and it is at that moment you can begin to mentor the student into the mindset of thinking like a physicist.
When a student is motivated by curiosity, they will ask the follow up questions, the barriers of resistance are lifted. The goal is to learn the process of acquiring scientific knowledge and I use curiosity to get the ball rolling. How do we know what we know and what is the logical process that took us from A to B? If I can get a student to see the beauty in this way of thinking then no topic will be ‘too scary’ or ‘too hard’. A majority of students have been brought up in the ‘plug and chug’ method of physics, meaning they find an equation and plug in the numbers to get an answer with no consideration as to whether the equation is even applicable to the scenario. For this reason my course may be a little frustrating even for the most mathematically prepared student, initially. I purposefully deemphasize getting the right value and emphasize the process of problem-solving. The value they solved for will be correct for only that one problem, but the process they use to arrive there will be correct regardless of the question.
In both physics labs and astronomy, I prompt students to ask the follow up questions because thinking through the implications of new information connects it within the topic more broadly. I am helping them build a box of tools they can use, but they have to also learn when they can use a particular tool. This process of questioning and connecting allows students to take a new tool and apply it in other, not-yet-familiar settings. Looking for patterns in science is a crucial skill. Deciding what information is important when judging whether a new tool can be used in a defined setting is not immediately obvious. For example, in Physics 202 lab, students learn about T-Tests for testing whether two values are the same within uncertainty, and shortly thereafter they learn about the chi square test which tests whether a model is a good fit to data. Students at this level can easily do the math (or use Excel) to answer the question, but they need training on real data to see the pattern of when one tool is more appropriate than another. Sometimes students apply the new tool incorrectly, but I argue that is when the most learning happens. They get half way through running T-Tests on individual datum before realizing they are not getting the information they are interested in. Getting a question wrong opens up the door for peer learning and practicing science communication, which is another key learning outcome for my courses.
I want to be clear: I am not writing impossible homework questions, but I am asking the student to do more than regurgitate facts or plug numbers into equations. To that end, I design the parameters of my assignments so that if students answer incorrectly, it takes place in a low stakes environment. I aim for a growth mindset by allowing multiple attempts on assignments. I also phrase problems so that they test reasoning rather than the final answer alone. During class discussions, I have students engage in Think-Pair-Share by taking a first guess at a question, discussing it with their neighbor and sharing their results with the class. Science is a group project so being able to communicate your thinking process helps others learn.
For this reason, my philosophy of teaching also centers around the idea that true learning occurs when done in the company of others. I am not in the classroom to pour my knowledge into the student’s brain as a one-to-one transfer or toTeaching-By-Telling. Good science textbooks with video links can do this as well or even better than I, but Physics Education Research (PER) shows this is a very ineffective way for students to learn physics and understand new material. I believe students need to engage with a concept as part of a community through Peer Instruction (Mazur 1997, Peer Instruction: A User's Manual). This is easily done in a physics lab, but requires more classroom management in an astronomy lecture.
Introductory astronomy has a different reputation than physics does in the sciences. Many students who take astronomy already have curiosity about the topics covered in the course. This certainly makes my job easier in some ways! I am able to jump straight into how we could possibly know all of the cool things we know about outer space. The challenge comes when the students find out the course is not just fun facts and pretty pictures. They find out they must consider the math involved in knowing what we know. Why do pictures of nebulae from Hubble have so many different colors? We have to learn about photons and frequency and wavelengths. Students get a crash course in chemistry to understand the Bohr model, emission and absorption spectra. But once they are convinced this learning is worthwhile, again the doors of curiosity are opened, and that cool picture they saw from Hubble is even more amazing!
Teaching Practice: How do I teach and why do I teach this way?
​
From astronomy lectures to physics labs, I teach using several different modalities depending on the topic. For the first two years at Agnes Scott, my teaching consisted of the same methods I had experienced in the classroom as a student. Ultimately, I confronted the fact that, for a majority of students, it was ineffective, boring, and not sparking the curiosity that leads to learning. No one was happy. As I talked with colleagues and studied current developments in physics pedagogy research, I began integrating new techniques into my courses.
The physics lab setting requires consistent engagement in hands-on activities with group members. Originally our labs were more focused on the math of each topic which resulted in a repeat of the lecture essentially. Students were missing out on the lab experience because they were so worried about working out the math they never got a chance to explore the process of taking a topic from the theoretical to the experimental. Labs were adding limited value to the course as a whole. In our algebra-based labs, Physics 102/103/502/503, I reconfigured the learning outcomes and assessments to emphasize the connection between big-picture qualitative results and deemphasize individual quantitative results.
The calculus-based Physics 202/203 labs began as copies of the algebra-based physics labs with a handful of more advanced questions. My third year at the College, I completely flipped these labs with the guidance of Cornell Physics Education Research Lab. This was a massive shift from a ‘cookbook’ style lab to research-supported inquiry-driven experiments. Now this lab sequence is significantly more engaging, students have more autonomy, and each lab is curiosity-driven while still following the introductory physics content. It provides a closer approximation to the experience of how actual science is done in a lab, requiring creative thinking, problem solving, curiosity, and testing the boundaries of accepted physical models using statistics rather than confirming that they get g, the acceleration due to gravity, when dropping two different size metal balls, for example. Another benefit of the overhaul is that now this lab series prepares our students for more advanced and autonomous work in the Modern Physics course which is the next in the major/minor series.
Before taking on the introductory astronomy series 120/121, I observed every person teaching these courses in the department, and attempted to pull together the most compelling aspects of their methodologies and modalities. Students start class with a written brain dump of all the information they can recall from the previous class and the weekly reading. There is some traditional lecturing, but it is driven by student interest through a weekly ‘quiz’ where one question asks them to describe what was most interesting or most confusing from that week's reading. This gives me a roadmap of where to focus our class time most effectively and what topics will encourage engagement. I supplement our discussions with complementary slides of astronomical images, graphs, and tables, and I will use those same tables, graphs, and charts for small group discussions. Using the framework of Team-Based Learning, I have the students work in groups to solve a math-heavy homework question, discuss trends in data and make conclusions, consider implications of changing parameters on a given system, or even make a memorable space dance to describe an astronomical process. Several times during the semester I bring in demonstrations and have the students manipulate them to make observations for themselves. Through these activities I am spreading the class time across as many of the visual, auditory, kinesthetic, and tactile modalities of learning as possible with the intent to engage as many students as possible.
After attending the project-based learning workshop hosted on campus in 2021, I was inspired to revise one of the large semester projects in introductory astronomy to focus more intentionally on team building and group work. This proved to be more difficult than expected because a majority of students have had a terrible experience with group projects, and a significant portion of students work off campus jobs making team scheduling outside of class very difficult. This is an area for improvement I will be targeting specifically in the coming semester. Additionally I have incorporated a smaller citizen science project that students complete individually. This has proven to be very popular and engaging for many students as they can choose the particular project they are interested in and participate in real astronomy research from their phones without needing to set aside devoted time like they would with homework for example.
Thanks to our previous department chair, Amy Lovell, who served in the Office of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, and to workshops offered on campus, I have become increasingly cognizant of ways that I can create a more inclusive and equitable learning environment in my classes. This begins with setting the tone of the classroom at the beginning of the semester with student-driven introductions and interpersonal exercises to create a space where all students can feel an equal stake in the discussion and that they add value to it. In recent years, I have adopted a free, online, open source textbook for my introductory astronomy course. This allows all of our students immediate access to learning materials produced by highly experienced editors of astronomy textbooks. I also use the accompanying, low-cost homework system, which allows students to make multiple attempts, access immediate feedback and hints, and see full solutions while they are completing their work. This textbook also shifts away from focusing solely on the traditional white male figures, colonial naming conventions and language in astronomy. Additionally, I have designed a semester-long project for students to explore the barriers experienced by non-white female-presenting members of the astronomy community. The product specifications for this project are open to the individual student’s creativity, provided that they communicate the astronomer’s story as well as their important scientific contributions.
Continuing Evolution in Pedagogy: Next Steps
​
In the above, I addressed my philosophy of teaching and the specific changes to courses that I have made over the last nine years. However, my philosophy of teaching includes the belief there is always room for growth and improvements in the ever-changing landscape of higher education. Each year our students come into our courses with different experiences and under different conditions. This may seem obvious but it means our teaching has to respond every year to a new set of stimuli. I have found it useful to keep notes of what has worked from year to year and to write down ideas of what changes need to be made in the future and why. I also pivot during the semester based on student feedback as necessary. I believe in giving my students the opportunity to tell me what is not working at appropriate times within a given semester. A student may not know what becomes of end-of-semester feedback, but taking and acting on their feedback at midterm shows them their ideas are important and that I want to make their course experience better. For example, I noticed my office hours were very empty. With a short survey, I was able to shift to times that were more convenient for our students’ schedules. What is the point of asking for feedback if I am not willing to make adjustments?
I reach out during the semester about specific policies or procedures so changes can be made before the end of the term. Just because a policy worked last year, or the last five years, does not mean it will work forevermore. I may decide not to make the suggested changes for one reason or another, but now I have the opportunity to explain why a policy exists and students have the opportunity to hear the reasoning. If we teach our students to think critically, then it is nonsensical to forbid them from questioning our own methods of instruction. This is also an impetus for me to revisit particular policies and evaluate whether they still serve the overarching learning goals of the course.
The next steps for my teaching journey include focusing on professional growth as well as expanding learning outcomes across my courses. First and foremost, I intend to continue expanding my DEI work with classroom management improvements and updates in the infrastructure of my courses. There is the low-hanging fruit of changing the colonial language in science courses, for example in astronomy it would be using Trans Neptunian Objects instead of the Kuiper Belt, or the incredibly important color-magnitude diagram instead of the Hertzsprung-Russell diagram. Another easily accessible change would be focusing on the contributions of non-European scientists and communities, but I would like more development opportunities in how I can alter the structure of my courses to provide our students more equity and inclusion in the classroom while still providing a rigorous preparation for careers in STEM.
Next, I am brainstorming how to scaffold the algebra-based physics labs to be more like the inquiry-based labs of our calculus-based sections of physics. This would require significant buy-in from students and work by faculty to create an accessible environment for this radical shift at the algebra-based introductory level.
Finally, with the shifting pace of programming and AI in the workplace, I believe it is essential for our students to have exposure to basic coding. I see a place for this in our calculus-based physics labs. With the appropriate scaffolding, this could be accomplished in a low-stakes environment that is not strictly required for successfully completing the lab.
Conclusion
​
In this statement I have outlined why I teach, how I teach, what is most important in my teaching, what changes I have made in my teaching, and my next steps for growth in my teaching. The answer to each of these questions makes up my philosophy and practice of teaching. I believe in our students’ ability to succeed in astronomy and physics and I delight in being a part of their learning journey. Science is a worldwide group project. My goals are for my students to know that they belong here and for them to feel confident enough to take their place in that community of scholars. In order to facilitate this end, I enjoy trying new things in the classroom that research shows may help students feel more confident in their ability to learn physics and astronomy. I continue to refine my teaching skills and constantly look for ways to make them more inclusive of all of our students.