Reflections on my teaching (#1284)

Topics/tags: Teaching, autobiographical, long, rambly, opinionated, end-notable, insufficiently edited

Spring semester 2024 is now complete. I’ve even finished my grading, although that took a marathon of work during finals week and beyond. It was a difficult semester. Personal issues took a huge toll. And I faced some complicated student issues.

For the last class of the semester, my CSC-207 students brought me a cake, a card, some letters, and even a PowerPoint presentation [1]. I’m still trying to understand why. I felt like I let the class down. I was less organized than usual [2]. I was not responsible in providing my graders with guidance, so grading of assignments was almost as bad as when I grade [3]. I was also slow to respond to things I usually keep up with: reading responses, metacognitive reflections, labs, and LAs. Because I was slow to grade LAs, I was also slow to post new ones, so my students had an end-of-semester rush [4].

As I said, I wasn’t sure why they seemed so happy with me. I tried discussing it with my TA, who is appropriately blunt. They said, You know. When I said, No, I don’t, they insisted I did. I asked whether it’s because I’m nice. They said, No, you’re not nice. As I said, they are appropriately blunt.

In any case, I have to admit that some students find me special [5]. Perhaps many students find me special. I suppose I should take stock of what might contribute to my apparent success as a teacher.

In putting this musing together, I initially considered writing these comments as suggestions for other faculty. However, as I’ve said in the past, it’s not clear that what works for one faculty member will work for another; things that are natural for one person may seem forced for another. Nonetheless, there are some things that every faculty member should do or consider doing. I’ll let you figure out what those are.

Before going on, I should note that I’m fortunate. My classes are small. CSC-207 was over-enrolled at 27 students [6]. I also started the semester with 25 students in CSC-151 [7]. Some of my recommendations reflect that context; folks with significantly more students may not be able to adopt my interpersonal habits.

As I begin reflecting, I note that two big-picture groups of issues are at play. One has to do with those interpersonal connections, and one has to do with approaches to teaching and learning. And yes, there’s some interplay between them. I suppose we will find other issues to consider, too. Let’s see what happens as I try to explore.

Interpersonal issues

I debated calling this section care about students and treat students as people. Both are important and interrelated. I want to see my students succeed. But I want them to succeed beyond just learning the topics of the course; I want them to be happy, avoid trauma, find the right path in life, have a life beyond class, and more. Isn’t that what we hope from all the people around us, or at least most of them? [8]

In treating my students as people, I’ve found that I must accept that there is more in students’ lives than my class. When a student misses class to study for an exam in another class, or to prep for a job interview, or for some unknown reason, I get upset. But then I take a step back and try to remember that they have lives beyond my class, and, while I wouldn’t necessarily make the choices they make, they have a right to make those choices. Many of my students also face a host of personal issues, issues that they shouldn’t have to share with me. Many of my students genuinely need mental health days. But there’s a balance to strike; students should understand that class time is valuable; policies help reinforce that understanding. Some will convince themselves that they can do just as well working on their own; most are wrong. We have classes because you learn in class.

I also tell them that some things are more important than my classes. What things? Family. Friends. Their own wellness. A typical dialogue:

I’m having trouble getting work done because my mother is sick.

Family is more important than my class. Focus on family for now, and we’ll figure things out once you’re ready.

Over the years, I’ve become more and more lenient on attendance. These days, I’m fairly generous. Students can miss class for any reason. They don’t need to tell me why, although they are free to do so. However, they must notify me that they expect to miss class or send me a note soon after each class they’ve missed. If they don’t, I often check in with students [9]. I hope I’ve struck the appropriate balance between giving them freedom and asking them to be responsible. It seems to work for most students, but not all [10].

I believe every student can succeed. Not everyone starts at the same point, but with support, every student should be able to master the material in the introductory CS student. Some will take more time. That is, things may click later in the semester, or they may just need to spend more time on problems, exercises, mentor sessions, and such. But I firmly believe that every Grinnell student who puts their mind and effort can learn the material. For that reason, I use mastery grading (or at least a form of mastery grading).

I’m not afraid to tell students when their work is bad [11]. I won’t criticize an answer that a student gives in class [12], although I might ask others if they have an alternate answer. But the crappy code they sometimes submit? That’s free game for posting and criticism, as long as I do it anonymously. Caring about people includes letting them know when they make mistakes so that they can improve. And we can learn from each other’s mistakes.

I do my best to build community in my classes. And no, that’s not just the community created through shared suffering. I encourage students to talk about their extracurricular and cocurricular activities and encourage their peers to support them in those activities. I make sure to provide students with guidance on how to work together.

I’m willing to be vulnerable. I admit when I screw up or don’t know something. I apologize when I’m late getting work done. If I act like a human, I better treat them as humans.

I also give weekly Friday public service announcements about substance use and cohabitation. I feel awkward and cheesy doing these, but any positive effects the PSAs may have far outweigh my feelings of awkwardness. I thought students might also find them uncomfortable. However, both my classes this semester indicated they considered them important.

Teaching techniques

I employ active learning techniques throughout my classes. The most common technique is pair programming, but think/pair/share also shows up.

I explain the rationale for my teaching practices. At least, I sometimes do. Much of my reasoning is buried in my overly-long syllabus. But students can know why I do much of what I do.

One of the most important things to explain is why I call on students randomly. The practice is straightforward. I have a stack of cards with student names on them. When I ask a question, I grab the card from the top of the stack, and that person gets to answer. I tell them it’s okay to say I don’t know, but I encourage them to try to come up with an answer. And, when a few people in a row have trouble, I tend to fall back on, Okay, it’s time to talk to your partner for a few minutes to see what you can figure out.

I guess that’s the what, not the why. I tell my students that I call on them randomly to give them practice answering questions that they are not completely prepared to answer. After all, it’s one of the outcomes of a good liberal arts education. I also realize that holistic thinkers may be less able to provide quick responses and that some students get too anxious when being called on, so I offer students the ability to opt out of the card stack.

To support students who can’t be in class, I record classes. I’ve always done a text-based eboard (like blackboard/whiteboard) that I post to the Web. These days, I’m continuing my pandemic habits of making audio/video recordings in Microsoft Teams and also making and audio recordings and live transcripts through Otter.ai. If I had more time, I might post the funny Otter summaries of each class.

As I mentioned above, because I believe every student can succeed, I use a form of mastery grading. The class has some basic check-off work: Daily reading responses, lab writeups, and such. Students get credit for doing the best they can on those. To verify that they’ve mastered the core ideas, I give learning assessments (quiz-size problems) for the core learning goals of the class. If students miss a learning assessment the first time, they can try again. And again. And again. What’s important is that they’ve mastered the idea, not when. I also give regular mini-projects (homework assignments). Once again, if students don’t achieve the level they want on mini-projects, they can try again. I learned about mastery grading from my colleague, Peter-Michael Osera. I’ve updated my approaches through conversations with colleagues at Grinnell and elsewhere as well as my readings of the education literature.

On that note, I do my best to keep learning about teaching and learning. I talk to departmental colleagues, divisional colleagues, institutional colleagues, CS faculty at other institutions. I participate in Grinnell’s summer workshops and Community Fridays. I also read the CSEd literature. For a broader understanding of college-age learning, I talk to my wonderful colleagues in Academic Advising.

Although I realize that perfect is the enemy of good, I always look for ways to improve my teaching and my classes, whether little or large. When possible, I look for ways to tune the readings and labs. Could I phrase something differently? Would another problem be better than what I have now? Can I write new autograder problems to give them better feedback? Should I write a new assignment? As I said in some earlier musing, I tinker with my classes.

I include regular metacognitive activities. These days, our primary metacognitive activities primarily involve metacognitive wrappers: sets of questions students answer before and after major assignments or exams. Students can become better learners by considering how they study best and what challenges them.

I explicitly consider group-work skills and challenges. Too often, we throw students in groups and expect them to succeed. Over the years, I’ve gotten much better at providing at least some framework for building these skills. We discuss pair programming, why we use pair programming, and how to be a good partner. Students also read and discuss articles about pair programming. I particularly credit my colleagues Janet Davis, Jerod Weinman, and Peter-Michael Osera for helping develop the pair-programming curriculum in CSC-151. I added further discussion of the challenges of pair programming (and any group work), particularly the microaggressions that are too often part of group work in computer science (and, perhaps, elsewhere) [15].

One of my more controversial strategies, at least among faculty and family members, is that I try to be available at off hours. Students have problems when they work on homework assignments. They also have questions. While the CS department makes evening tutors available, I can often provide more precise feedback more quickly. Also, when students are stuck at the beginning of an assignment, they usually can’t make forward progress on other parts of an assignment. Hence, if Michelle and I are just sitting and watching TV, I’ll often have my computer open and will answer the questions that come in on Teams or email. Is this a good strategy? It affects my work/life balance. And it means that students don’t need to plan ahead, to try asking questions early, rather than as they arise. But students can’t predict what questions they will have. Hence, I follow this questionable practice.

I write open instructional materials. I suppose everyone does. I just take instructional materials to a greater extreme than most [16]. Few of my courses use textbooks. Instead, I write all the textbook material. More precisely, my colleagues and I write all the textbook material. CSC-151 has been a genuinely collaborative experience. In contrast, the materials I use for CSC-207 are mostly mine. I also post all these materials to the Web for others to use or critique.

What other teaching practices do I follow? As I imply by writing this musing, I try to reflect. I don’t always do so well, but I try.

Present personality

I also present myself as a person to my students. I admit flaws. Perhaps I don’t admit them enough.

I tell jokes [17]. Some are off-the-cuff remarks. Some are from the historical set of Sam jokes or Sam Dad jokes. Don’t ever ask me, What’s up? I’ll just tilt my eyes upward and report on whatever is above us. Usually, ceiling tile and lights. I also insert snarky jokes in our eboards (and then erase them, at least in most cases).

I’m sarcastic and snarky. That’s not ideal. While most students understand that snark and sarcasm are signs of care, not all do. In some semesters, my class mentors [18] are frequently the victim. What do you mean you don’t know how to solve the problem? Remind me why we hired you. I had always thought students knew that I was joking, but in one of my online semesters, a student worried that I didn’t think well of someone who was one of my best mentors ever.

Is it a joke or sarcasm when a student asks whether I’ll grant an extension and I say I’m a softy while drumming on my (large) belly?

I comment on campus culture. I’m willing to talk about drinking, or controversial events, or my frustrations with some aspect of the College. But I do so thoughtfully (I hope). For example, when students were filling out end-of-course evaluations, I not only read them our introductory paragraph about potential bias [19,22], I remind them that they should be active in considering these issues the following semester. If you think that a woman scientist or a faculty member of color isn’t doing well, ask yourself how much implicit (or explicit) bias may be contributing to your response. If you wait until the end of the semester to ask that question, you’re unlikely to counteract the evidence that your biases have helped create throughout the semester.

As I suppose that example suggests, I have opinions. I realize that not all students share my opinions. I work hard to make them realize that that’s okay; their success in my class does not depend on sharing my opinions. Well, that’s not quite true: I expect them to share my opinions on code quality.

I aspire to alliterate [23]. That sentence suffices.

As I mentioned above, I critique code. Perhaps that habit demonstrates all of the personality traits above. This code makes me want to vomit. That’s a flaw, right? I should not react physically to code. And it’s somewhat funny that I’d react that way. The comment is definitely snarky. And opinionated. Also alliterative. It may not be a comment on campus culture. C’est la vie.

Most of my readers are likely familiar with these characteristics. After all, they show up in most of what I write.

Oh. That’s one more thing. Some subset of my students likely finds it relevant that I ’blog about myself, teaching and learning, computing, and other such things. Perhaps that’s part of being open and admitting flaws.

Making mistakes

Does all of that make me sound great? I dunno. I hope that most faculty treat their students as people, keep improving themselves as teachers, and keep trying to improve their classes. On the other hand, I’m not sure the world would be a very good place if everyone were as snarky as I. Do I spend more of my time on some of the positive matters than others? Perhaps. Mastery grading, in particular, takes a lot of time. Writing and revising the textbook and lab instructions for classes also requires significant time.

In any case, I also have a lot of flaws. Or I make a lot of mistakes. Here are a few. I won’t boldface characteristics or behaviors here since I don’t recommend that others follow them.

I have difficulty providing prompt feedback to students. That’s nothing new. I’ve had difficulty providing prompt feedback since I started at Grinnell. Sometimes, I seem to have a mental block against getting things done. And the mental block gets worse and worse the longer I procrastinate. Other procrastinators probably understand. It’s not that I’m not working on my classes; it’s that it’s more fun to, say, revise a reading than it is to grade [24].

Unfortunately, as I tell my students, my early experiences at Grinnell helped reinforce these tendencies. In my second semester, I taught CSC-152, our old data structures and algorithms course [27]. I gave bi-weekly group assignments and had students write weekly reflections on their group work. I graded none of it. I did, however, grade all of their exams. Relatively promptly. I think.

Anyway, at the end of the semester, I told the students that there was no way I would be able to finish to grading their homework and asked them to grade themselves. No one gave themselves higher than a B.

And I ended up with perfect end-of-course evaluations.

The natural conclusion? Grading doesn’t matter.

In spite of that experience, I’ve tried to get better. I provide very prompt feedback on SoLAs in CSC-151. At the end of the semester, I provide prompt feedback on LAs in CSC-207. I need to work on promptly getting that feedback to them throughout the semester.

But homework? For 207, a lot of it didn’t get graded this semester. Or last. I’m glad my students are sympathetic.

I’m snarky and sarcastic. It is not always pleasant to be on the receiving end of my snark. Some students also find hearing the snark unpleasant. I’ve tried cutting back. I even succeeded for a while. However, the class felt less authentic when I did so. I still struggle with how to be better about such things. I’d rather my class were uniformly welcoming [28].

I mix up names. I’m not sure why, but I get names wrong. Sometimes, it’s because I have not succeeded in distinguishing people who look similar (or at least similar to me). And, try as I might, I can’t find a good way to distinguish them. Sometimes, my mind just grabs the wrong name. It even happens with my kids. But class feels less friendly when I get names wrong. There was even a semester in which I dead-named one of my students. I tried to stop but couldn’t. Whenever I went to say their name, my brain pulled out their dead name, not their real name. I still don’t know why. Fortunately, whatever was at play for that student has not been at play since.

I expect students to buy into my teaching methods. Don’t like to work with others? Too bad. Learning to work with others is part of my course. Don’t want to be put on the spot? Too bad. I put students on the spot, although I try to make it relatively safe. Want to think imperatively in CSC-151, using loops and assignments? Too bad. I don’t permit such things in our functional course.

Now, the first two aren’t entirely true. If students have a good reason not to work with others, I’ll excuse them. But I don’t like to work with others and I prefer to work alone aren’t good reasons. After all, working with others is one of our learning objectives. I’m a bit more generous about concerns like I’m not comfortable being called on in class. However, even in those cases, I push students to try.

I may give too much work. I generally arrange my classes so that they meet the College’s goal of twelve hours per week [29]. I’ll need to look at my end-of-course evaluations, but the amount of work I require has slowly crept up. Certainly, in responding to an open-ended question about What did you learn in my class that was important but not evaluated?, I heard a variety of responses that implied the class required a lot of work, such as I learned how to manage a large workload. One of my Tutorial students, after taking CSC-151, said, I’ve learned that Sam classes have more work than normal classes. But work helps students learn. It should just be the appropriate work. And an appropriate amount of work. I’ve also heard some suggestions to revisit my view of the average student.

I make students use the open textbooks I’ve written. I’m a decent writer. And students benefit from free textbooks. However, in some cases, they might benefit more from having materials that have been more carefully reviewed and updated, materials that have been tested in mulitple classroom situations. Someday, I may consider using other materials, at least for CSC-207. For now, I’m going to keep using mine. Students can find other resources to help them on the Internet. Maybe I can get students to more openly critique these pages to improve them. I’m also planning a rewrite during my forthcoming sabbatical.

I use eboards rather than whiteboards [31]. The eboards serve many good purposes, many of which I enumerated earlier (or at least I planned to enumerate earlier). But they can be an awkward form of lecture. Sometimes, pre-planned PowerPoints are better. Sometimes whiteboards are better. I like that the eboards slow me down; hypothetically, that gives students more time for note-taking [32]. But more time on lecture is less time on lab. And it’s nice to have visuals, which are hard on the text-based eboards. Perhaps I’ll find a way to sneak in pictures of the whiteboards next semester.

I sometimes [33] spend too much time at the start of class rambling about topics or answering questions. As one student noted, I can just as easily answer questions on Teams. However, I find that students respond differently to in-class synchronous question-and-answer sessions. My willingness to answer questions in class frees some students to ask questions they would not ask otherwise. But I need to be better at cutting off questions so that there’s time for lab, particularly in CSC-207. I’ll be trying a new format for CSC-207 in the fall, so that may be an opportunity for me to adjust.

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Well, there you have it. Some reflections on my teaching. Why did I start this? Oh, that’s right. I was asking myself why many of my students seem to react positively to me as a teacher [34]. I definitely have a bunch of flaws. I’m not sure I do much in my classes that others don’t do. All of my colleagues in CS certainly promote active learning, many use mastery grading, most develop and revise materials. From conversations, I know that most colleagues across the institution care about their students.

Am I a bit more explicit about caring? Perhaps. Do I seem to care a bit more? Perhaps. Do I have good intuition about new things that might work? I’d like to think so, but I cringe at some of the teaching techniques I’ve tried in the past.

I know!

It must be the snark.

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Postscript: Now that the Grinnell faculty have voted to temporarily replace triennial post-tenure salary reviews with triennial developmental reviews, I wonder whether this kind of piece would work for a developmental review. I’ve even discussed flaws that I would not include in a salary review [35]. And reflecting on weaknesses is useful for development. Perhaps I’ll use this as the basis for whatever I’m called upon to write in that review.

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Postscript: Speaking of reviews, a colleague writing about reviews said that a dilligent faculty member would spend about three hours writing about their teaching, scholarship, and service. They must write faster than I do. At this point, I’ve likely spent six or more hours on this musing. If it were for a review, I’d be spending another few hours editing. And that’s only for one part of the review. I suppose I’m something other than dilligent. Perhaps obsessive is a better word.

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Postscript: It took me long enough to write this musing that I now have end-of-course evaluations (EOCEs) available for my classes.

Of the 24 students in CSC-207 who filled out the EOCEs, 21 seemed to have a positive experience, and three seemed to have a negative experience. As in the fall, a few students really didn’t like the eboard technique; I’ll admit that there are benefits to having whiteboards. I’m surprised that some students wrote things like Rebelsky was a fantastic lecturer. I’ve always thought of myself as a decent lecturer. What I do best is involve students in design. Perhaps this is a more appropriate comment: The lectures, especially where we talked through an ADT or something were great.

The 207 students support my prior claim that I sometimes give too much work. The vast majority spent between 7 and 12 hours outside of class each week [36]. Nineteen of twenty-five agree that the workload was manageable.

One of the comments may provide the real answer to why some students love my classes. I’m pretty sure it’s reflected in my own comments above, but it never hurts to repeat things.

Sam is committed to making sure every student feels comfortable to ask questions and understand the concepts. He dedicates time in class for questions and is very responsive on teams message for any of our questions.

Before I move on to the CSC-151 responses, I find that I must insert the first two text responses to Please comment on: course sessions were conducted in a manner that helped me to understand the subject matter of the course.

It was helpful to have a lot of lecture-based classes because it helped me understand the material more.

Too much time spent on lecture, which is useful but we don’t get time to do lab which to me is the best place for learning.

Ah, the joy of balancing different student needs.

Okay, on to CSC-151. It looks like all 20 of the students who took the course had a positive experience. One student slightly disagreed with The oral and written work, tests, and/or other assignments helped me to understand the subject matter of the course, and one slightly disagreed with I learned a lot in this course. On the other hand, 90% or 95% moderately or strongly agreed with all the Likert-style statements, and, for what may be the first time ever, 100% moderately (25%) or strongly (75%) agreed with the statement that Work completed with and/or discussions with other students in this course helped me to understand the subject matter of the course. I usually have one or two who find themselves frustrated with pair work. I credit my class mentor. [37]

As in the case of CSC-207, I see some concern about the workload. Once again, the vast majority spent between 7 and 12 hours per week outside of class. Two reported spending 4 to 6 hours per week. Seven reported spending 7 to 9 hours per week. Another seven reported spending 10 to 12 hours per week. And 4 reported spending more than twelve hours per week. Surprisingly, only five disagreed with the statement that The workload in this class was manageable.

Making the workload more manageable should be a high priority on my what to change list. That may involve further conversations with students about where and why it becomes unmanageable. I should almost certainly find a way to move the hard problem on each mini-project to some kind of optional section, even though I believe that students learn the most from the hard problems.

As I skim through the comments, I find myself wondering about the comment, This is the first Grinnell course I’ve taken that assigns readings of a reasonable length. Sam does an outstanding job writing these. It could mean two things. I first read it as This is the first Grinnell I’ve taken that requires more than a trivial bit of reading. But then I realized that it could mean This is the first Grinnell class I’ve taken in which I could complete the readings in a reasonable length of time. I wonder if both interpretations could apply, depending upon the student.

I suppose I’ll reflect on the other comments in another musing. While they provide insight into how I might revise the course, they say less about what makes me popular. I think the latter was the subject of this musing. Perhaps a subject of this musing.

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[1] Perhaps Google Slides.

[2] Isn’t that terrifying?

[3] Have I told the story about the first time I taught Data Structures and Algorithms? That’s a tale for another musing.

[4] I’ll likely muse more about that separately.

[5] In a good way.

[6] It’s supposed to be capped at 24. We canceled the other section of CSC-207 to permit another section of CSC-161, so I allowed my section to over-enroll.

[7] In most semesters, I have almost no melt. That is, I end with the same set of students I start with. This semester, I lost three or four students in 151.

[8] I work hard to try to hope for the best for people who frustrate and anger me. I don’t always succeed.

[9] I did not do that well in CSC-207 this year.

[10] I feel like there were at least two major failures this semester in which students did not attend even though they should. But I’m also not sure that another system would have helped. Harsher penalties may have just led them to drop.

[11] Grammarly suggests that I change bad to terrible. It’s nice to know that software is more critical of students than I.

[12]  Grammarly says that I should change I won’t criticize an answer that a student gives in class to I won’t criticize a student’s answer in class. However, the claims aren’t the same. I do criticize students’ answers in class. It’s just answers from homework assignments rather than what they speak aloud [14].

[14] As you see, I also feel free to critique Grammarly’s answers.

[15] Reminder to self: I need to revisit these issues in CSC-207. Students need to practice pairing and grouping.

[16] But not all. I’m relatively sure I learned some of these habits from colleagues, and I’ve seen others follow them.

[17] At least, I think they’re funny.

[18] Improved teaching assistants.

[19] Officially, we’re not supposed to be in the room when they do their end-of-course evaluations. I leave after I read the statement and make my comments on it. I checked with Analytics and Institutional Research, and they indicated it was okay to read the statement before leaving, even though the instructions say otherwise [20]. I also verified with my students that they don’t normally read it to themselves [21].

[20] The beginning of each EOC has a statement related to reducing response bias - […] Do not read this statement to your class, students will see the statement when they log in to complete the evaluation.

[21] Surprise, surprise. Students don’t read what looks like shrinkwrap text.

[22] Recent research suggests that student evaluations of teaching are often influenced by non-conscious and unintentional biases about the gender and/or race of the instructor. According to this research, students systematically rate women of color, white women, and men of color lower in their teaching evaluations than white men, even when there are no actual differences in the instruction or in what students have learned. From those findings, we, the faculty of Grinnell College, infer that instructors may also be subject to bias based on additional characteristics unrelated to the effectiveness of their teaching. As you fill out the course evaluation, please focus on the effectiveness of the instruction.

[23] I’m amazed to see that Merriam-Webster defines alliterate as

intransitive verb

to form an alliteration

to write or speak alliteratively

Wasn’t that helpful?

[24] Admittedly, almost anything is more fun than most grading [25].

[25] However, I’ve recently found that I don’t mind grading small learning assessments—at least in moderation [26].

[26] Everything in moderation, as I tell my students.

[27] Okay, it’s not all that different than CSC-207, the new data structures and algorithms course. The main differences are (a) we can assume students know C already and (b) we cover graphs.

[28] Is Grammarly going off the rails here? It says I should write I’d instead my class were uniformly welcoming.

[29] Yes, I have questions about twelve hours for whom? and twelve hours for what grade? [30].

[30] Ooh! We have a new Registrar. Or at least a new Temporary Registrar. I should ask them the questions. I’m sure they’d appreciate them.

[31] I added this comment after I read my end-of-course evaluations.

[32] Ah, the fantasies of faculty.

[33] Often.

[34] Professor. Faculty member. Something like that.

[35] For better or worse, even though a primary goal of a salary review is that you reflect on your past few years of work since what you write affects your salary, admitting flaws seems like a bad strategy.

[36] 11/24 said they spent between 7 and 9 hours each week, and 10/24 said they spent between 10 and 12 hours each week. One spent less than 7 hours and two spent more than twelve.

[37] Followup: At least one had difficulty with pair work, at least with some partners, which I see from their response to Is there anything else you want me to know? [38] I wonder why they still responded positively to the statement.

[38] No, I’m not going to give the details.

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Version 1.0 of 2024-05-30.