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Beauty in the Classroom

In a recent post, Andrew Leigh wrote about Rate My Prof and the general issue of student evaluations. In the comments, he referred to an article by Daniel Hamermesh and Amy Parker in Economics of Education Review. (Hamermesh is a professor of economics at the University of Texas at Austin; Parker was one of his undergraduate students.)

In "Beauty in the Classroom: Instructors' Pulchritude and Putative Pedagogical Productivity" (love that alliteration!), Hamermesh and Parker had students rate photographs of professors on their physical attractiveness. They then correlated that measure with the responses of other students on end-of-the-term evaluations of the course and the instructor (very unsatisfactory, unsatisfactory, satisfactory, very good, or excellent).

The result of their study, once you get past the standard deviations, psychometric measures of concordance, and the like, is simple: the better looking the instructor, the higher the scores on student evaluations. The differences were significant: from the bottom to the top of the "beauty" scale, student evaluations increased one whole point out of five. And since few students give their instructors the lowest mark, the difference between least and most beautiful would appear even greater.

The authors noted that the implications of this go beyond just numbers on student evaluations. Since colleges and universities consider such input from students when making decisions on raises and promotions, there could be a correlation between how well professors are paid and how good they look.

"It was God who made me so beautiful," supermodel Linda Evangelista once said. "If I weren't, then I'd be a teacher." Maybe Ms Evangelista shouldn't have been so hasty. According to this study, if she had gone into higher education, she would be almost assured of high numbers on her teaching evaluations, and this in turn would help her receive regular raises and promotions. On second thought, maybe not. "I don't get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day," she once remarked, and even those of us with the best student evaluation numbers have yet to crack the five-digit-per-day mark.

Student evaluations can be a touchy point in higher education. I taught for a few years at a state university in the Midwest. Where other schools use student evaluations as just a part of the review process, this school used student evaluations exclusively. In other words, whatever number came out when they ran the student evaluations (filled in with number 2 pencils, of course) through the machine, that was our teaching score for that year.

This process gave results that suggested a wonderful precision in the review process (3.783! 2.311!), but some of the faculty complained that if they demanded a lot of work or gave the low grades that they felt students sometimes deserved, their evaluations would be lower because of their higher standards. (Actually, empirical evidence on this is mixed.) These faculty therefore proposed that the student evaluations be weighted according to grade distribution, reading and writing requirements for the course, and so forth. In other words, faculty who assigned more books in their courses and gave lower grades would not be penalized for lower student evaluations.

Several of us pointed out that we would have a riot on our hands if students discovered that our raises and promotions were based in part on how many papers we assigned and how many students we flunked.

Until recently, the school where I currently teach required numerical student evaluations for all courses. A couple of colleagues, since retired, showed that results could be manipulated. For example, the questionnaire we used asked students to rate their professors on the following statement: "I believe the teacher cares about students," or words to that effect. Several years ago, these colleagues made a point of telling their classes three times each semester "I care about how you do in the course." Their evaluation scores on those questions increased significantly, even though they did nothing else different in the course. (We still uses student evaluations, but the forms no longer ask for numerical ratings.)

I don't know what to think about all this, but it's one reason I haven't posted a photo of myself above. I'm afraid folks will see it and think, "Oh, I bet students just HATE him."

The above was originally published, in slightly different form, in the Cartersville Daily Tribune News.

George Brown Tindall, 1921-2006

I didn’t know George Tindall when I started graduate school at the University of North Carolina in 1980. As an undergraduate down the road at Duke, I had learned the names of some UNC historians, and in the years I was at Chapel Hill (I finally got the Ph.D. in 1988), I never got over my initial sense of awe for some of them. But when I met George Tindall, he was just a nice little man with white hair, a bow tie, and a friendly voice.

By the time I learned about The Emergence of the New South, The Persistent Tradition in New South Politics, and The Ethnic Southerners--books that guided a couple of generations of historians as they researched and wrote about the post-Reconstruction South--I had come to know Professor Tindall as more than merely one of the biggest names in southern historiography. His essays on southern mythology and “the benighted South” were masterpieces and a huge influence on the way historians viewed the region. His dissertation, published as South Carolina Negroes, 1877-1900, along with Vernon Wharton’s similar study of Mississippi, provided the necessary background for C. Vann Woodward’s Strange Career of Jim Crow, one of the most important books in American history published in the 20th century. (I sometimes wonder what would have happened if Tindall, rather than Woodward, had been invited to give the Richards Lectures at the University of Virginia in 1954.) But I didn’t know any of that until later. As a result, my respect for George Tindall as a scholar never surpassed my love for him as a person.

It was because of George Tindall that I decided to study the history of the South. (My undergraduate degree had been in the history of science.) And it was through Tindall that I came to appreciate the importance not only of thorough research, but also of good writing. I think Tindall stressed this more than anyone else at Chapel Hill, and it shows in the students he produced. Check out his “Clio's Decalogue: The Commandments of the Muse,” posted by Tindall student Ralph Luker of Cliopatria. (First Commandment: “Thou shalt smite the Philistines hip and thigh with thy first sentence.” Yes!)

About a dozen years ago, the Georgia Historical Quarterly published an article I had written on Sam Jones, the famous late nineteenth-century evangelist. When I noticed in the page proofs that the phrase “Sam Jones’s Theology” had been changed to “Sam Jones’ Theology” in the subtitle, I wrote to John Inscoe, editor at the Quarterly, asking him to change it back. I reminded him of Strunk and White’s first rule: “Form the possessive singular of nouns by adding ’s.” John replied that he had received one similar request before: from George Tindall! (Tindall did love his Strunk and White.) I don’t think I ever told him about that.

I can’t imagine that I’ve had even a fraction of that influence over my own (undergraduate) students.

George Tindall died yesterday, December 2, 2006, at the age of 85. More than anyone else, he shaped my professional life. Other Tindall students will say the same thing. Although it breaks Clio’s Second Commandment (“Thou shalt love the active verb with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and thou shalt have no passive verbs before me”), I must say: he will be missed.

welcome to another history blog

An unimaginative title, I know. But there are so many history blogs (see the several hundred listed at Cliopatria's Blogroll, where you'll find one--or five or six--for every taste), and all the good names (like Millard Fillmore's Bathtub) were already taken.

But that's all right. After all, by claiming this name, I can say that this isn't just another history blog; it's the another history blog.

Bundaberg & Nambour Area

10/28/06 -  11/03/06:  Passage & Arrival

When we were looking for a weather window to Oz, Chris asked me what kind of conditions I would be happy with.  I replied, "10-15 aft of the beam".  "That's way too little [wind]" he told me, but I was talking apparent, and after our 'rough' year I wanted something tame ... something boring.  Good & bad, we didn't quite get 10-15 apparent, usually we had less.  On one hand the seas were smooth and the sun was out; it was fantastic.  On the other hand we motored about half-way to Australia ... the noise and diesel fumes bugging both of us.  In the end though neither of us could complain (in fact whenever we make it somewhere safe, regardless of the trip, we tend not to complain)!  The most excitement in the trip was when a whale shadowed us for a wee bit, and at one point surfaced right behind three fishing lures we were trolling.  We were lucky he didn't snag a hook and relieved when he lost interest in Billabong.  Our trip ended nicely when Chris brought in a 4 ft Wahoo the morning of our arrival.  For a few more details on our passage and arrival click here to read our BLOGs.



11/4/06 - 11/13/06:  Port to Port Rally Events

Our first week in Bundaberg was consumed by various social events put on by the Port to Port Rally.  We ate and drank and ate some more.  We also spotted our first kangaroos!  During one of the Rally BBQs an excited man came running in, announcing there were kangaroos out in the field across the street.  It was funny to watch all the tourist pour out of the tent to go stare at these creatures that were just standing there (eating), much in the same manner as a deer in the headlights.  I tried to get Chris to chase after them so that we could all see them hop, but lucky for him one took off hopping on its own, while I squealed with joy!  The local Australians probably think we are all just a wee bit crazy, after all they see kangaroos nearly daily (just another form of road kill around here).  When one man didn't get up to rush out of the tent the excited man said, "Hey come on there our kangaroos!", to which the local boringly replied "I'm Australian, mate!".

During the day we managed to bus into the 'city' a few times; where we found a 'real' indoor mall and both Kmart & Target!  Yes, it is hard to believe that we are so easily impressed and excited!  The week ended with a tour of the Bundaberg Rum factory and a visit to the local (huge) hardware store.  We covered most of the week, including details on Chris' impressive 'invention' (as seen right) in our BLOGs, so I won't bother to go into all again (click here to see the BLOGs).

11/14/06 - 11/19/06

This was pretty much a 'down' week for us.  After all the drinking and eating during the previous week we needed a bit of time off (not to mention some exercise).  We still managed to be social, including visiting with an older couple we had met at one of the P2P Rally events.  Joan and Fred, both in their eighties, had us over to their house for an excellent meal (honey prawns), and entertained us with stories from their past, including some interesting tales from Africa.  If we have learned anything from our travels, it is about hospitality and the kindness of locals to complete strangers.

One of the highlights of the week was the purchase of a small-ish 12 volt freezer.  A freezer at last!  For the most part Chris had always claimed freezers were a luxury we didn't really need ... and of course three years without proves he is right, but ahh the joy of having one!  In truth, I owe it to his growing interest in fishing ... the only way he can fish more (and catch more) is if we can preserve it for longer periods (ie freeze it).  While I'm excited about more fish, my real joy comes from the tinkling sound of ice cubes clunking against the side of my glass!!!

11/20/06 - 11/27/06:  Thanksgiving in Nambour

We were quite excited to finally bring Billabong to Australia, as when we purchased her she was originally registered in Mooloolaba, Australia, and her previous owners now reside in Australia.  So we had been looking forward to visiting Steve & Lynne and bringing Billabong back to her roots!

Monday we hopped aboard a bus and after five, mostly boring, hours arrived in Nambour.  Steve brought us to their house, which he had built himself, and instantly we were in love with the place.  The house is simple, uncluttered, and airy; surrounded by a walk-around deck and filled with endless windows.  The yard is vast and green, with a terrific garden, papaya trees and perfect palm trees.  And best yet, tons of exotic colorful birds visited hourly, enjoying the feeders, mini pond and bird bath.  Chris instantly grew worried; how would he ever drag me away from this land paradise, back aboard Billabong?

We ended up staying a week.  Enjoying time on the deck watching the birds, various street fairs and farmer's markets, a few scenic drives, and a visit to Mooloolaba.  With the huge kitchen and terrific garden we did a lot of cooking & eating (what's new there), including a fantastic traditional Thanksgiving meal.   We also took advantage of endless power, lots of water, decent internet, and the good 'ol T.V.!  It was especially good that Steve and Chris could talk boat stuff, while Lynne and I could talk anything but!  We loved every minute of it, but still missed Billabong and felt the itch to finally move on and begin trekking south.  So we returned to the boat on Monday with plans to get the boat ready and start looking for a good weather window south.

11/27/06 - 12/01/06

The next four days were spent cleaning and organizing ... basically trying to get all the crap put back away!  We celebrated a second Thanksgiving with some of the cruisers and said goodbye to some friends who wouldn't be going South.  We also, finally, after months of indecision, decided that we would not ship our boat from Australia to the Mediterranean, but rather would join the Darwin to Indonesia Rally in July 2007.  This was a huge decision for us, and we'd spent a number of days and nights debating our next steps after Australia.  We still aren't sure what we'll do after Thailand ... but hey, that's a whole 'nother year away!!!

What exactly is a "Tchoupitoulas" anyway?

One of the things in New Orleans that is really strange to me is the spelling and pronounciation of Street, City and Parish (county) names. There are several names that I could never figure out how to pronounce if not for a little help from some of the locals. I decided to find out a little bit more about what these words meant. Below are a few examples.

Plaquemine (Plack a min), a parish and bayou. From the Mobilian (Indian) word "piakimin", which means persimmon.
Tchoupitoulas (chop a too les), a street in New Orleans and a French settlement outside of N.O. at one time. The name of an extinct Indian tribe. Also means "River People".

Calliope Street (Cal' i ope) (The "ope" said like nope--no "e" heard) Don't ask where "Cal-lie-o-pea" is, nobody will understand what street you're looking for!

Carondelet St.- not pronounced like the French (cor on do ley), but instead the T is pronounced.
Burgundy St.- seems easy right? We all know how to pronounce this. But wait - there is a stress on the UN, so intead of "burg andy" it is "burg UN dy". I wonder how they say caramel.Marigny (mar in knee)- Got its name from Frenchman, Bernard Marigny who introduced craps to the US. Faubourg Marigny is considered the first suburb of New Orleans. The Marigny neighborhood is a maze of angular streets that form triangles, pentagons and squares. Numbers jump their sequence mid-block and so do street names. Spanish, French Creoles, Italians, Germans, Irish and many free persons of color were among the first ethnic inhabitants to live in this section of the city.
Pontchatrain- the lake was named after Louis Phélypeaux, comte de Pontchartrain, the French Minister of the Marine, chancellor of France and minister of finance during the reign of France's "Sun King," Louis XIV, for whom Louisiana is named.

For more info, go to:
http://www.experienceneworleans.com/glossary.html or http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_orleans

Slim's take two...

Get this! The exact same day I wrote the last blog, I went to Slim Goodies and.... They have printed menus! And their prices have gone up! I am so disappointed....

The Story of Slim Goodies

We go there every Sunday without fail. We are greeted at the door by the owner, who's name is Kappa. The waitresses wear striped tights like the Wicked Witch of the West. The seats are red pleather and the menus are handwritten. You can get breakfast at any time for under 7 dollars. You can bring your own champagne and make mimosas. It feels like home.

The first time I went to Slim Goodies was about one month after Katrina. We sat in the backyard; the fence was knocked over, the trees were all broken and torn and limbs were strewn across the yard. We did not get a menu; instead the waitress, who's name was Katie, came up to us and asked, "vegetarian or not?" We told her which we were and she brought us out an array of goodies served on paper plates. I think I had pancakes and a biscuit. And coffee, also served in a paper cup. And water served in a bottle. I think my meal cost about 3.50 or 4 dollars.

Slim's has come a long way since the first time I ate there. They do have a menu now, but it is handwritten and you can order things such as "the little goat" (one of my favorites), "the guatemalan", "the jewish coon ass" (dont get me wrong, this is a really good sandwich - 2 potato latkes topped w/fresh spinach, 2 eggs, crawfish etouffee, biscuit) and the "fancy pants" (Chris' favorite and the first time he ordered it, I thought he was calling the waitress names). They have real plates and cups. Katie is gone; she went to Denver.

It may have changed a lot, but it is still the best breakfast place in New Orleans and maybe even anywhere. So every Sunday, we buy a bottle of champagne, round up the troops and head to Slim's for breakfast/brunch/lunch, where we gorge ourselves on fancy pants and joe.

Slideshow.....

Only Cruisers

Current Location: Bundaberg, Australia
Current Position: 24º45.62' S 152º23.28' E
Next Destination: Bundaberg for at least two weeks

More than once on our journey I have thought, “Only cruisers” …. and at least twice over the last week that thought has crossed my mind.

During the last week, the Port to Port Rally has been keeping us busy with every-night eating and drinking events. Besides putting on a few extra pounds, it has been a great chance to meet new people and some of the locals. It is amazing how fast news & stories travel through a fleet of cruisers. It didn’t take long before people were hitting Chris up for both computer and fishing advice. Most people were especially impressed with the use of ‘junk’ aboard Billabong. They found it interesting that he uses old [wine] corks to make fishing lures (and soon they too were rummaging for corks), but were especially curious about the pasta strainer hanging in our rigging. Yes, you read that correctly, we have a pasta strainer hanging from our rigging … and to be honest it is catching on, a number of cruisers are now following suit, and apparently they are doing it in Noumea too (where we first started this trend). What it is in reality is the cruiser’s version of a parabolic wi-fi antennae.

It is really a clever design (perhaps we should patent it, ha ha). Chris taped our external USB wireless network adapter in the center of a medium-sized wire-mesh, hand-held type of pasta strainer (4 bucks at the local supermarket). He strapped that to our rigging, facing the provider’s wi-fi antennae, and ran an extra long USB extension cable down through our hatch. Voila … internet on the boat! We even covered the whole contraption with a Ziploc, making it an all-weather antennae! We started this in Noumea, where we couldn’t even get a signal on the boat, and Chris was getting tired of carrying his computer up to the parking lot to use the internet. Oh sure, we got some strange looks by people walking by, but once word got around that it actually worked, the grocery store found themselves in high demand of wire-mesh pasta strainers. I wonder what people think when the meander by a marina full of boats with pasta strainers and other similar kitchen utensils hanging from their riggings!!! The word followed us all the way to Bundaberg, where cruiser after cruiser quizzed Chris about how to duplicate the setup …. to the point where we finally just brought the thing to one of the Port to Port Rally dinners and had a bit of show-and-tell! Sure, you are laughing, and shaking your head (and perhaps saying, “only cruisers”), but you’d be surprised how well it works, and all it took was a 4-buck pasta strainer and a Ziploc! Still aren’t quite picturing it? – We promise to post a picture on our website soon.

The finale to the week long events was a mini-tour of some of Bundaberg’s sites. It included a stop at Bundaberg’s ginger beer factory and a tour of the Bundaberg rum factory. The rum factory was quite interesting, from the gigantic molasses lake to the huge barrels, each worth about 5 millions dollars (in rum)! The bus ‘tour’ also included a stop at Bunning’s. As the huge charter bus, carrying about 40 people (all now a bit tipsy from rum tasting), pulled into the parking lot a few people walking back to their cars stopped to stare. I’m sure they were wondering what the hell a charter bus would be coming to Bunning’s for … you see Bunning’s is a really big hardware store. Yes, HARDWARE store. And the really funny thing is that everyone on that bus was quite excited to be stopping, and when we were told we only had 30 minutes, I thought there might be a riot!!! Our final stop was at the supermarket plaza, which had a supermarket, liquor store, bakery, and pharmacy. Yes, a tour only a cruiser would love!!!

What’s next for Billabong? With the Port to Port Rally events over, we can finally get on to some relaxing (hmm, like we haven’t been doing that already), and perhaps get a few boat projects done. The previous owner of Billabong lives nearby and has invited us for Thanksgiving, so we’ll probably stay in the Bundaberg area through Thanksgiving, and then begin our trek down towards Sydney.

Third Time's a Charm?

Yes, I'm back. Back again....

I have returned again to Louisiana (for the third time in a year) to continue working with the Education systems that were affected by Hurricane Katrina. I am working in the same office (New Orleans) as I was before, doing the same job with the same clients. However, the dynamic of the group in the office has changed very much. When I was here before, there was a very large group (about 20-30 at any given time) that would all hang out together on the weekends, on the weekdays and at lunch. I arrived back expecting the same thing, even though I knew that everyone had gone home months ago.

Well, it is not the same. There are only about 3 of the original group of 30 left (including me). Having said that, the three that are left have had a great time, but it is very strange not having the rest here...it always feels like we are missing someone. We always go to breakfast on Sunday morning at Slim Goodies (we do this religiously every Sunday, rain or shine). It used to work like this: whoever woke up first and had a rumbly tummy would call everyone else and set the time to all meet. This used to take a long time, so long in fact that sometimes we had to split it with another, like a phone tree. Also, so long that sometimes breakfast became lunch. Last Sunday it went something like this: I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. It was Lea. She said, "ready for breakfast?" I said, "yes". And then we went to breakfast. It was like culture shock. I was picking up my phone and scrolling through all the names looking for someone to call.

Yesterday, another member of the extended group came back. In the next few weeks, a few more are expected back. And we are making new friends and adding to the group every day. Soon, we will be whole again. Soon, going to Slim Goodies will once again be an all day affair, if only becuase of the dozens of phone calls one has to make each Sunday morning.