Add Grad Student and Shake Well. Ingredients for TA-ing

How to be a good TA over at Built on Facts.

Disclaimer: I never did recitations as a TA in grad school, though I did tutor students (for a whopping 8 bucks an hour). I had just gotten out of the navy, where I had logged somewhere around 2500-3000 classroom teaching hours, so it’s not like I needed to acquire any lecturing skills. I did labs, which involved only a few minutes of lecture time, and then a lot of Q&A. I didn’t want the repetition of six or so recitation sections, and I knew (from being a student and having done undergraduate TA-ing as well) that labs didn’t always go the full three hours. So, does any of my advice or criticism really apply?

But what do my students say in their confidential evaluations? My scores are always pretty high, but the single most common good thing they have to say about me is this:

He speaks English.

Yeah, I got that a lot, too, as a TA. Which just goes to point out that student evaluations more-or-less follow Sturgeon’s law. 90% of them are crap. The student’s judgments are not always objective, nor do they usually give constructive feedback. They can like or dislike you, and give evaluations accordingly, based on criteria other than teaching quality. And that’s what many of them are — statements of whether the student like you, rather than your effectiveness. I remember one teaching evaluation in which the student complained about how I blocked the board some of the time and he couldn’t read it. He sat near the front in the left-hand row (as viewed from the back of the classroom). I’m right-handed and bigger than a breadbox. It’s physically impossible for me to not block part of the board, and the part I will block will affect those on that side of the class a little more. Basic geometry, really. But it didn’t stop the student from whining about it mentioning it.


I should note that part of my apparent disdain here is a product of military service. Complainers aren’t exactly coddled by the ones in charge of them; the bottom line is “get the job done.” As I’ve said before on this topic, being in the military means never having to say you’re sorry to your subordinates. So, bottom line is that most of the negative comments were obviously whining and were summarily dismissed. (Not just me, either. I was the physics division director for more than a year. The similarity of negative comments for different teachers was striking). Sometimes it comes down to doing my job or being liked. if I can do both, great, but of not, then I must choose option a.

What they need in recitations is only so much theory as is needed for an understanding of the concept, with lots of worked example problems. Lots of them. Do them as interactively as possible, so that instead of just working through the problems yourself in front of sixty glazed-over eyes the students are actively involved in figuring things out. That’s what they’re going to have to do by themselves on the exam, after all. And they can take the skills they learned in recitation and apply them to the homework.

Students need to see different worked problems, but what this does is give them a repertoire of “problems I’ve seen so I can recognize an almost-identical problem,” so just working the problems for them doesn’t do much. I like exposing the thought process, which is probably easier to do in recitation since the whole class sees it, but in labs it’s usually interaction with just one or two students. I noticed that a lot of the time a question was asked, a student will know the answer, but was looking for confirmation. My response was to bring the Socratic — basically, ask “What do you think the answer is” and help them work their way to the correct answer. Most of the time they knew it, and the rest of the time we could discuss why the wrong answer was incorrect. I get the feeling they’ve learned something, but there’s no way to know for sure if that stayed with them or not. But that’s the “as interactively as possible” that Matt discusses, or my version of it.

One trick here is that when you ask a question of the class, ask it of the whole class, and only then call on an individual to answer. “Mr/Miss Smith, what equation would we apply here?” allows the entire rest of the class to relax and cease brain activity, while “What equation would we apply here?” (pause) makes them all think. Then you can call on someone. And don’t always call on the same people, nor limit yourself to the bodies attached to the raised hands.

There are some mechanics-of-teaching things that Matt doesn’t address, but can really help the student experience. Speak clearly and project your voice. How many times have you witnessed a really smart person ask, “Can everyone hear me?” when, of course, you will never get a “No” out of that. Confirm that the people in the back can hear you (this goes for presentations, too). As Matt says, it’s great when you can lecture without notes, but if you haven’t reached that point, make sure you are speaking to the class, not talking into the papers.

Legible writing and good board work. Just as in giving a talk, you want everyone to be able to read your presentation. Don’t mash it together, and don’t go back and try and cram stuff in an open area — work from one side to the other (left-to-right for me). I critiqued Darth Vader’s writing skills in the Pythagorean Theorem talk — it slopes “uphill” and he has to squeeze some of it in. (And yet he gets great evaluations from his surviving students). Some people have the “Think Ahead” problem that makes it look like the writing has a vanishing point.

After you’ve written something down, read it. Not what you think you wrote, what you actually wrote. This helps catch typos and mistakes. I personally never admitted to a mistake when I was lecturing; I went to the passive voice, “Oh, wait. A mistake has been made. This should say X,” in a how-the-heck-did-that-happen tone, as if some gremlin had changed my writing.

Don’t erase with your hands. Especially if you have (nervous) habits or tics like rubbing your nose or stroking your mustache. If you’re using a chalkboard, don’t lean on the chalk tray.

Be aware of your favorite word, which you use to start off sentences. “So,” or “OK,” or whatever. And once you’re aware of it, try to avoid using that word.