The SQ4R Study Method: Survey

The "SQ4R" study method is an evidence-based strategy to maximize the gains you get from studying. The name is an abbreviation, with each letter describing one step of the process. (And yes, SQ4R is an upgrade to SQ3R.) This is the first of a series of posts (collect 'em all!) that describe all six steps. This installment: S.

The "S" stands for survey. Before you start to read a chapter of a textbook, take a couple of minutes to skim through it. Don't actually read it now (that comes later). Get an overall impression of the chapter, and try to understand the organizational structure. There will likely be introductory material, and also summary paragraphs or points (or both).

Well-written textbooks will have a hierarchical organization: major topics are presented first, followed by more and more detailed ideas after that. Knowing that your textbook is organized in this way will make things easier to learn when you actually start reading the chapter (no, don't start reading yet).

Check for a glossary at the end of the chapter; you'll almost always find a list of important terms there. Some textbooks put important terms and definitions in the margins or at the bottom of the page. You can come back to these later, when you read the chapter. (No--no reading! Just skimming. Skim!) Surveying gives you an overview of what lies ahead.

Why aren't you studying? surveying?

The High Cost of Textbooks (Redux)

Here's another "redux" posting (by the way, redux means "brought back," or "restored"), updating a previous post about the price of textbooks.

A few weeks ago, I sent my concerns about textbook prices to the manager of the Bookstore. He told me that the prices of textbooks reflect their "actual markup, which is 5 % above list price." (List price, again, is the manufacturer's suggested retail price. Key word: "suggested," not "required" or "obligated/") Armed with knowledge of the 5%-pricing scheme and the list prices given to me by the publishing company representatives, I started calculating what the prices on the shelf should have been (i.e., list price multiplied by 1.05). Result: they didn't match. According to my calculations, the Bookstore's prices were too high.

Again, I contacted the bookstore about this, and was now told that "shelf price is based on margin not markup. The calculation is the net price divided by .75 not the list price multiplied by 1.05."

When I talk to publisher's reps, I try to negotiate the best price for a textbook, attempting to keep the list price as low as possible. This, it now turns out, is a complete waste of time--because the price for the book on the shelf is based on the net price (how much it costs the bookstore for each book), not the list price. The manager also told me, "All of our reps are given this information so when they are quoting prices with the instructors they are passing on accurate information." Well, that didn't happen in this case. In fact, it seems reps (and instructors) are not aware of the Bookstore's formula for calculating shelf prices.

I hope this post will clear up this issue, and make things more transparent for everybody. But I'm still not happy about it.

Why aren't you studying?

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Update: The UofA SU and the UofA Bookstore have jointly created CRAM: Canadian Roundtable on Academic Materials, focusing on making textbooks more affordable.

The Registration (or, "Can you get me into your class?")

I don't have any super powers. Really, I don't. Yes, it's true: I have no special powers over the registration system, Bear Tracks. Heck, I can't even do half the things students can in Bear Tracks.

To do lists? That's pretty neat. Swapping classes? Very handy. Watch lists that send notifications to your email or cell phone? Awesome! Of course, I don't need these features. Which is good, because I don't have access to them anyway.

I bring up my sad lack of registration-fu because all of my classes this term are full. Still, some brave souls come to each and every class in the hope that a spot will open up. They plead with me, "Superman, save me" or "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope." Nope, sorry. You've got the wrong guy.

I don't have access to any back doors in Bear Tracks. I can't add you to the class, and I can't increase (or decrease) the size of the class. I know there are empty seats: that's because some students don't come to every class. (By the way, I'm fine with you coming to my class even if you're not registered, but there is one limitation. If there are no more seats left and some students are left standing, that is a violation of fire regulations. At that point, I'll have to ask those who are not actually registered to leave.)

The good news is that some students will sit through one or two of my lectures and will say to themselves, "This prof sucks," and they'll look for another class. That will open up a spot for someone else who, presumably, finds that I don't suck as much.

So, really, the only thing I can do is, well...suck as much as possible. That will weed out those who aren't really into the course, and will allow students who can endure me to get in. So maybe I really do have special powers after all: I can apply my special powers of sucking! (Wait, I don't think that came out right...)

Why aren't you studying?

The First Day of Class (Redux)

I've posted on the first day of class before, but I wanted to do another take on it. You probably noticed there's something I didn't do on the first day: Teach.

Considering the shortage of time I have, and the huge amount of things I'd like to talk about, it may seem odd that I didn't take advantage of whatever time was left over after going through the syllabus. But I have my reasons.

1. Time. After jabbering on and on about the course, there's not a whole lot of time left to start lecturing. It's nice to get a good flow going; it's not so good to get on a roll and then have to stop.

2. Practicality. Lots of you will print out the notes and bring them to class. But on the first day, very few of you will have brought them with you. Plus, a lot of students do some serious course-shopping during the first week or two of classes (not you, of course). Then there are the people who are still lying on the beach in Cancún. So, instead of creating extra hassles for everyone, I just decide to skip it.

3. Psychological reasons (what, you didn't see that coming?). What is the most stressful time of year? Right, it's final exam time (you saw that coming, I hope). OK, now what's the next most stressful time of year? That's right, the first day of class.

You collect your syllabi, buy your books, and look at this huge pile of work you're supposed to do in the next 4 months--and you turn and walk out the door, looking for that great party your heard was going on somewhere.

So, to save you from any additional stress (heaven forbid), I ended things early. Hope you used that time wisely.

Why aren't you studying?

What I did on my summer vacation

Went on a two-day holiday. Vehicle broke down. Turned into a four-day holiday. Ended up at Sylvan Lake on a long weekend (not part of the plan, but...oh well). Probably ate too much ice cream from Big Moo. Got caught in an amazingly horrible storm on the way home--but didn't get hailed on. Kid #1 watched a DVD through it all. Kid #2 slept through it all. (Check out photo of the "human zoo," as my wife calls it.)

Edmonton's festivals are great. Went to Heritage Festival on the busiest day ever. But didn't get caught in amazingly horrible storm there, like some people did. Where else can you get so much awesome food from around the world? Huh? E-town, baby. (Check out photo of, er, porta potties. Nice shot, honey.)

OK, another festival--Cariwest. Kids love parades. Kids of all ages, I mean. Yeah, another festival. If you're not in Edmonton over the summer, like, where are you? Seriously, if you're "going back home" at the end of April, you are so missing out. (See the photo of--is that former city councillor Michael Phair?)

Went to Capital Ex. Rides. Food that's so bad, it'll give your cardiologist a heart attack. And the highlight of the whole year if you're 5 years old. Which I'm not. But hey, I live vicariously. The worst thing was that I got beat at minigolf. The best thing was riding the little train that I haven't been on since I was 5 years old. (To be clear: not riding it by myself, or anything. Riding with the kids. Like I rode on the carousel--while trying to take a photo--whoa!)

Made jam. No, seriously. I made jam. From an actual recipe. By myself. (Well...with a little help from mom. And dad.) I've got an Evans cherry tree in my backyard. Some years, I get almost no cherries. This is not one of those years. So, I make jam. I end up giving it away to people I like. No, you may not ask for some. That doesn't mean I don't like you. You just are not allowed to ask for any. My jam, my rules. (Yes, those are jars of my actual jam.)

Oh, and (in case the Vice-Dean is reading this), I worked. I worked a lot. I read five books. I read a few dozen research articles. I worked on lectures for fall and winter terms (the synesthesia stuff is really cool). Revamped two courses which have new textbooks. Updated nearly every single Powerpoint slide for better readability. Put some cool Javascript tricks into my perception and art lecture. Discovered just how seriously dangerous it is to text and drive (for the love of puppies, do NOT text and drive). I've started tinkering with a perception and magic lecture (a beta version, just a work in progress--I hope to see more research on this so I can work up a proper lecture). And I've still got more work to do. (No photos of my work. That would be really weird.)

Why aren't you studying?

The Seminar

When I started teaching, this is what I knew about teaching: Nothing. Impressive, huh?

Fortunately, University Teaching Services puts on great teaching seminars throughout the year. These seminars are typically presented by my peers: other instructors at the UofA. They have helped immeasurably with my teaching--from structuring a course, to incorporating technology, to creating better exams.

The last seminar I went to a few weeks ago, however, was off-campus, and was sponsored by Nelson Education--a textbook publisher. Why would they want to improve teaching? Of course, they're motivated by profit. They were actually promoting a new concept called Nelson Education Testing Advantage, or NETA. They've hired an educational expert in testing and exam construction to help revamp the multiple-choice questions that are provided to instructors with textbooks. The seminar was a gentle marketing event which allowed Nelson to promote their textbooks. I say, "gentle" because it was not a hard sell. Rather, they flew in the expert from Brock University to tell us (about 75 college and university instructors from the Edmonton area) how to improve our own multiple-choice questions. Attending a lecture like this, presented by a renowned expert, is pure gold.

First, I got a lot of great information, which I'll use over the summer to revamp the multiple-choice questions I've written for use in my courses. That means rewriting some (most?) of about 500 questions. It could take a while. So I'm not just going to be sitting out on a patio with a cold drink all summer--no, I've got a huge list of things to do before classes start for me again in September. In addition to revamping my m/c questions, I also have to read two newly updated textbooks and modify my lectures to reflect changes in the content. I've also got a big digital "pile" of research papers that I haven't had time to read, because I've been teaching for the past 12 months in a row. I'm also a bit of a bookaholic, so I've got a pile of those to read.

The other great thing about attending a seminar is that I'm on the other side of the lectern, sitting in a classroom, listening to an instructor, and thinking about things that enhance (or detract from) the classroom experience. I am also instantly turned back into a student, a learner, and I realize that learning never stops.

For those of you who are graduating, the university experience is over--and you're now facing the Real World. Others are gearing up for more classes in Summer term. Some of you are working, and won't be coming back to campus until the fall. But for all of us, learning will never stop.

Why aren't you--well...you know.

The Donation

I've been buying Wired magazine since issue 1.1 back in 1993. For some reason, I decided to keep every issue instead of tossing it out after reading. I have every single issue, every subscriber-only special issue, every special supplement, and every issue of Test magazine (put out by Wired's test lab before Christmas for the past few years). Actually, I should say, "I had..." A few weeks ago, I donated all my Wired magazines to the UofA library.

You know, you keep a few issues of a magazine around and eventually they start to make some pretty big piles. Then you put them in a box and the box fills up. So you get another, bigger box. And then you'll need another box, and so on. Soon, your wife is bothering you about all those boxes of magazines you're collecting and are never going to read again. Right, good point. But it seems such a shame to just...throw them out.

A few years ago, someone sold their whole collection of Wired magazines on eBay. I heard they got over $700 for them. (The photo here is of that person's collection--I never thought to take a picture of all my Wireds.) Now, it would be nice to make some cash, but the shipping would be killer: those boxes weighed several hundred pounds. (I told you I had a lot of magazines--a 16-year collection of magazines printed on heavy weight paper adds up.) So, what to do?

I noticed that the UofA library had a partial collection of Wired, but there were some gaps--especially in the first year. Hmm, why not donate them? Now I realize that the contents of Wired are available online. But not everything is online; when you read the articles online, you're really missing the impact made by the radical (and award-winning) design and layout of the magazine, especially in the early years. They used bright fluorescent and metallic inks; the magazine really stood out from everything else. And the print ads are not available online--the dot.com-era ads themselves are worth the price of the magazine. Why not give back to the library, so that others might one day have the chance to flip through these actual dead-tree things?

So a few weeks ago, I loaded up all my boxes and took them to the Book And Record Depository (sadly, the magazines are not on the shelf on campus). I was surprised to find that I'm going to be getting a tax receipt for my donation. Score!

Now I have to ensure that my wife doesn't start eyeing my comic book collection. I have, er...about 10,000 comics.

Why aren't you studying?