A Revolution in Education Clicks
Into Place
Forum :Join
a Discussion on Technology in the Classroom
By JODI WILGOREN
WINSTON-SALEM, N.C. -- During his economics
seminar the other day, Sean Leary, a freshman at
Wake Forest University,
scanned stock prices, browsed
basketball updates from
ESPN, checked his e-mail, and
perused pictures of "beautiful
girls" on
www.acewallpapers.com in
search of a new backdrop
for his laptop computer
screen.
It seems Mr. Leary, who
had already taken one
economics course in the
fall, was bored by the
discussion of marginal
benefit and cost. But no
matter. This is a laptop
classroom, where each
student sits behind an
open machine, sometimes
posting answers to the
professor's queries on a
virtual chalkboard,
sometimes, well, doing
something else.
"I haven't skipped this
class once," noted Mr. Leary,
18. "Even if there's
something in class that's
boring, there's other stuff you
can do."
Wake Forest is one of more
than 100 colleges and
universities across the
country where a computer is
now required to matriculate.
(Some, like Wake Forest,
have raised tuition and
mail the laptops shortly after
acceptance letters.) Not
only has this created new
forms of in-class distraction
and revolutionized campus
communication -- e-mail
is used to plan Saturday night
outings as well as to write
responses to required
readings -- but it has begun
to transform teaching itself.
For example, Gordon McCray,
a Wake Forest business
professor, turned all of
his lectures into a streaming
video CD-ROM, essentially
doubling his class time by
forcing students to watch
the lectures (or read a
transcript) on their own.
He thereby freed class time for
group exercises. Others
have students do Web research
in class to supplement discussion
or use software for
homework and quizzes that
help tailor syllabuses to
individuals. Professors
say this way they are now
serving a broader spectrum
of learning styles.
The very hours of learning
have also been extended
beyond the classroom through
online discussion groups
-- often including experts
in the field or alumni. Where
only a handful of students
typically take advantage of
once-a-week office hours,
instructors are now in
constant contact with their
students by e-mail, even in
the wee hours.
"It's not just added on to
the old curriculum -- it's a
whole new curriculum," said
Bill Moss, a professor of
mathematics at Clemson University
in South Carolina,
where he started a laptop
project for 250 engineering
majors this year. "You've
got old guys like me who've
been teaching for 30 years
who've got to throw out
stacks of yellow notes and
start a whole new
pedagogy."
Arguing that computer literacy
is now an essential part
of a liberal arts education,
small colleges and
professional schools now
scratch for spots on Yahoo's
annual ranking of America's
"most wired" colleges.
The first colleges to require
computers were the
military academies, which
started putting a desktop in
every cadet's room in 1983.
But the current wave began
a decade later at the University
of
Minnesota-Crookston, an
outpost of 2,464 students on
the western edge of the
state, and has erupted over the
last five years, from Seton
Hall in New Jersey to
Sonoma State in California,
from the University of
Virginia's business school
to the tiny Shepard Broad
Law Center at Nova Southeastern
University in Fort
Lauderdale, Fla.
Now the trend is spreading
to large public institutions:
the University of Florida
in Gainesville, the University
of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill and Michigan State
University have all recently
approved computer
requirements.
Experts estimate that 80
percent of college students
now bring a computer with
them to campus. Making it a
requirement means the cost
can be factored in for
financial aid; it also allows
the university to impose
uniformity, which makes
technical support much
simpler. In most cases,
students pay about $3,000 for a
laptop fully loaded with
software specially designed
for the institution, then
trade it for a new model their
junior or senior year.
Universities are also spending
millions of dollars to
upgrade classrooms so there
are plugs and Internet
connections at every seat
-- though some are
experimenting with wireless
technology -- as well as
laser disc players and video
screens up front. There are
added costs for expanded
computer help desks,
work-study jobs for students
who provide emergency
technical assistance in
dormitories, and training for
reluctant, old-fashioned
faculty.
"The students believe we've
given them an edge as they
go out into the marketplace,"
said Joseph D. Harbaugh,
dean of the Nova law school,
where students use legal
case-management software
to file their assignments and
mock-bill their time. "This
has set us apart as we go out
into the market for students
and for faculty."
At Clemson, English classes
keep their compositions in
electronic portfolios posted
on the Web. At Western
Carolina University in the
foothills of the Smoky
Mountains, literature professors
are able to use primary
source documents in their
lectures, displaying Web
images of the handwritten
notes of a minor British poet
from an archive hundreds
of miles away at Princeton
University. In Jonathan
Zittrain's class on Internet and
Society at Harvard Law School,
students respond each
week to a question posted
on the Web, and the answers
are automatically routed
to another student -- or,
perhaps, the author of the
pertinent article -- for
comments.
At Oberlin College in Ohio,
a class on the industrial
revolution is using university-owned
laptops kept
locked in a newly wired
classroom. One day they
browse an online archive
of correspondence between
spouses in 19th-century
Pennsylvania, another they
analyze data from the 1870
census in Cleveland.
"We're experiencing something
of the same sense of
upheaval," said Gary Kornblith,
the professor, aware of
the irony of his technique
and his topic. "I see a lot of
parallels, and I hope my
students will see parallels."
Here at Wake Forest, where
the class of 2000 was the
first to receive laptops,
only a handful of professors
regularly use computers
in the classroom, but nearly all
of them incorporate technology
into their teaching.
Students in Patricia Dixon's
Musical
Protest in the Americas
class
consulted Pete Seeger himself
in an
online chat (and later corrected
the
professor by supplying Mr.
Seeger's
eyewitness view of events).
Rick Matthews, chairman of
the
physics department, said
a
circuit-maker program has
elevated
his electronics class. Before,
students would draw a
circuit, he would find a
couple of mistakes -- probably
miss one or two -- and give
the paper, say, an 82. Now,
students can test the circuit
to see whether current
would actually flow; everyone
gets a zero or 100,
because no one turns the
assignment in until it works.
"The homework before wasn't
teaching them anything --
it was merely documenting
what they knew and didn't
know," he said. "Now, they're
putting four times as
much time in as they did
before, they're enjoying the
homework more, learning
50 percent more electronics."
David G. Brown spearheaded
Wake Forest's computer
initiative while he was
provost, and now is dean of the
university's International
Center for Computer
Enhanced Learning. Dr. Brown,
an economist, is a
surprising spokesman for
e-education: his computer
experience five years ago
was limited to typing on a
word processor. Now, his
syllabus is an interactive
document featuring color
photographs of his students,
his "textbook" is electronic,
and he grades essays
online.
"The computer is like the
library," said Dr. Brown,
who uses laptops every day
in class, having students
type answers into a chat
room rather than raise hands,
or prepare an instant presentation
doing Web research.
"It's an intellectual resource.
If you don't have it, you've
got to dumb down your course,
you've got to dumb
down your research."
There are, of course, potential pitfalls.
There is the astronomy professor
at Wake Forest who
posted his lectures on the
Web -- so most people
stopped showing up for class.
And there are the
students at Columbia University
School of Business
who spend their time in
class trading stocks --
occasionally interrupting
the lecture with whoops of
joy or sighs of pain over
their trades. And there is the
incessant clicking on campuses
everywhere as students
take notes on their machines
or use them to write
exams.
"It can't make up for a good
teacher," said Heath
Baumgarten, 20, a Wake Forest
junior from Freeport,
Me. "It has changed the
social body. It's harder to meet
people. A lot of people
are inside a lot now."
As the first laptop class
graduates from Wake Forest
this spring, Mr. Baumgarten
said he, for one, plans to
leave his computer behind.