Lisa C. Kaczmarczyk

The case for teaching computer science education research to undergraduates

thing. These future computing professionals will be stronger if they respect nonquantitative ways of thinking and problem solving. As we know, there is more to making smart decisions about technology than stats and number crunching. Developing the ability to listen, observe, and analyze other perspectives thoughtfully yet methodically is a skill worth developing. A THIS FALL I had the incredible pleasure of teaching two classes at Harvey Mudd College. I co-taught one of these classes with Colleen Lewis—Computer Science Education Research. Colleen created the undergraduate seminar and assigned it these goals:

When worlds collide: appreciating the impact between academia and industry

42 acm Inroads 2015 September • Vol. 6 • No. 3 ABOUT 15 YEARS AGO, I worked as a developer at a startup in Austin, Texas. It was the dot-com boom and they were sure we’d all become millionaires. The money was flowing: we went on cruises, I got armloads of high end swag, stock options, bonuses, and a spiffy shiny office in a high rise overlooking the city. Even though I was only a part time contractor. I was part time because I was also working on my PhD at the University of Texas (UT) at Austin. Several days a week I bussed across the city to hold office hours in a dark, windowless room in the former Physics building. It smelled funny. When I was downtown I was a considered a mover and shaker. When I was at UT I was a lowly grad student. I thrived on both experiences. Neither group of people could understand why I was crazy enough to waste my time with the other group. Academics would tell me they didn’t “get” industry professionals and industry professionals would tell me they didn’t “get” academics. Each did their best to tell me I was better off with them and that I must decide to be “either” a tech professional or an academic. Sometimes, maybe over beer or in an unguarded moment, people would tell me what they “really thought.” It wasn’t kind. Not surprisingly, things haven’t changed that much in the last 15 years. Recently, with a promise of anonymity, I asked a few academic and industry friends to give me their uncensored opinion of the other group. I want to share with you some of what I heard. First: As Heard on the Street by Academics about Industry Folks:

What I learned about pedagogy from taking a non-technical MOOC

mance on unit tests, where red signals a perfect score. Clearly students are not expected to administer a Turing test to the source of their feedback. Indeed, they should be made aware of the fact that their homework is being evaluated by machines. This automatic, impersonal and effective way of giving feedback may be in the future of higher education, at least for large classes, certainly if AI lives to fulfill its promise. With the menial job of checking and grading assignments taken over by computers, we (human teachers) will be left with the responsibility to intervene and mentor our students throughout the semester based on the data harvested. This should revive the lost art of good teacher feedback. Ir

We need to talk

About the We need to talk coalition The We need to talk coalition is a group of mental health charities, professional organisations, Royal Colleges and service providers that believe in the effectiveness of psychological therapy. Together, we are calling for the maintenance and development of these treatments on the NHS. We want the NHS in England to offer a full range of evidence-based psychological therapies to all who need them within 28 days of requesting a referral. 1 We need to talk: Getting the right therapy at the right time The We need to talk coalition is calling for the NHS in England to offer a full range of evidence-based psychological therapies to all who need them within 28 days of requesting a referral.

Questioning our assumptions about introverts and computing

HOW OFTEN DO WE QUESTION our basic assumptions? In somewhat of a departure from my usual tack in this column, I’m going to challenge you to examine a few of our common assumptions, and percolate until you arrive at your own conclusions about how you view, value and teach future computing professionals. Let’s start with two commonly held beliefs about computer science and introverts. People in and out of the computing field often believe that a) technology is a field that is very attractive to introverts, and b) technology is a field that has traditionally been very amenable to introverts. As a result of holding these two beliefs we can (and generally do) conclude that a career in computing is a good match for introverts. There is evidence in support of these two points. In her book, “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking” [1], Susan Cain cites a study showing that early computer enthusiasts were overwhelmingly introverts. On the same page she also discusses the open source movement as a form of team work highly attractive to introverts. Clearly, an open source development environment allows groups of people to develop large complex systems without having to interact face to face or even necessarily in any direct manner at all! If not for the open source movement, we would never have seen the likes of Linux and Apache. Bane of many writing teachers existence that it is, Wikipedia owes its birth and continued existence to a mostly anonymous mass of behind the scenes contributors—many of whom would likely call themselves introverts. What about social media’s effects on introverts? Cain claims that social media makes it harder to be an introvert. She reasons that because social media is less asynchronous and less anonymous than traditional internet communication it is less comfortable for introverts. Is this indeed the case? Not necessarily, at least not for the technically savvy introverts we are often concerned about. We know that technically adept introverts find ways to remain anonymous, or to simply reduce the face-to-face team activities Cain suggests they dislike. In fact, there is an argument to be made here that social media provides introverts a 21st century way to comfortably communicate and work with a wider group of people than ever before. Thus, the first question for your percolation: is interaction using social media hard for introverts? Moving right along: for some time it has been virtually obligatory to have our students work in teams. We do so in part because of educational research findings that show that group work improves learning outcomes. Fresh from the guilty secret department, I learned that many computer science faculty will confess (anonymously) that, personally, they hate working on teams. Yet they unquestioningly walk the talk of how preferable group work is over individual work in a corporate development environment. If you want to punch a hole in that argument, check out Cain’s book for much convincing evidence that team work is not necessarily the most effective and efficient way to be creative or productive – even for extroverts. Much to percolate on there. Recently I took part in a group discussion about introverts and careers in the tech industry. The participants were industry professionals ranging from recent entrants to experienced executives. In passing, someone said that working in an Agile/Scrum environment was very hard on introverts. At the time I nodded to myself as the conversation moved on. Later, I thought: is it? I wonder... I formulated a question: Does an Agile/ Scrum environment favor extroverts; is an Agile/Scrum environment unattractive for introverts? I polled three people I know well. Here are their responses (edited for length and to fix minor typos).

An alternate view of science

almost always has to do with “doing something”. What is the object of that doing? People, society, the environment, culture. There isn’t anything else is there? Anything that we can wrap our heads around is related in some way to us. Can you think of some motivation for science that has nothing to do with our conception of reality? Let’s get back to the claim that we strive to obtain knowledge for the sake of knowledge. On the surface it sounds like a plausible motivation. The line of thinking goes as follows: “Science: 1a. The observation, identification, description, experimental investigation, and theoretical explanation of phenomena. ... 1c. Such activities applied to an object of inquiry or study. ... 4. Knowledge, especially that gained through experience” (American Heritage Dictionary)

Embrace your inner Twinkie

What has the shape of a sausage, the texture of an overcooked French fry, and the smell of a melted marshmallow? The warm answer rested before us next to a blob of melting ice cream. We poked, we prodded, we dissected, and we peered very closely. Yes indeed it really was a deep-fried Twinkie! I was torn about whether or not to eat it. My first reaction was: “Are you crazy? This not the way I eat.” It was probably not vegetarian (I am), and it was definitely not healthy. Many years of enjoying fresh, wholesome food told me in no uncertain terms to keep my distance. Even in its “natural” state, a Twinkie will spring back to its original shape after you step on it. This was not food. On the other hand, another voice was speaking to me: “a deep fried Twinkie is really innovative.” The potential for culinary adventure and cultural enrichment should not be passed up, the voice told me. Yet, if I decided to eat the Twinkie it would mean going way outside of my comfort zone with an uncertain ROI. It would be easy to rationalize why I should let my family have the Twinkie all to themselves. The pressure was on. Later, I wondered: would it be possible to work the Twinkie scenario into a class assignment? There must be some kind of opportunity here. What a fun 3D modeling exercise this could be. As fate would have it, I was not developing any courses at the time so, sadly, the idea never reached fruition. However, as one thought led to another, I found myself percolating about innovations that push our professional boundaries. I asked around, and my colleagues reported that smart phones in the classroom (mobile devices in general) are one of their biggest pedagogical challenges. For example, a friend reported recently that while she was giving an exam several of her students pulled out phones and started texting. A lengthy discussion on Facebook followed (after the exam) about what action she should have taken and why. Many ideas came out of that conversation. Were it not for Facebook she would have been unable to have the same quality of conversation about the issue. One form of social media helped her to address a challenge faced by another form of social media. Do you remember the laptop wars? A few years ago we debated at length whether or not laptops should be allowed in lecture. Some of us fought the idea, some of us embraced the idea, and some of us ignored the issue. Those who embraced the ever present reality of laptops often came up with creative and effective pedagogical strategies. Bravo! Laptops are old news now. But have you noticed we are having the same conversations about smart phones and tablets? Should we ban them? Should we embrace them? Should we ignore them? In support of a ban we can quote such the growing research demonstrating that the more we multi-task the less productive we are. You have to love this phrase (passed on by a colleague, who found it on the internet): “Self-imposed ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder)”. We hurt ourselves when we can’t put them down. Unfortunately, as the laptop experience tells us, knowing about the serious learning challenges posed by mobile devices does not slow their spread. While we wrestled with “what to do about” laptops in the classroom, they became so ubiquitous we barely notice them anymore. For the most part, we have implicitly or explicitly incorporated them into our teaching. Recent history supports the position advocating we embrace the ubiquity of mobile devices. The one position that is untenable for computing education is to ignore the issue of mobile devices. Why can this be hard? Because homo-sapiens are wired to resist change, especially as we get older. Although our epidermal cells regenerate every few weeks, most of our neuronal cells either don’t regenerate at all, or regenerate rarely and under special conditions. Once we pass our evolutionarily programmed risk taking stage (adolescence), we are programmed to stay with what we believe works (and kept us safe from wild animals). Unfortunately for the purposes of dealing with our current reality, we live a lot longer now and change is accelerating around Embrace Your

Embracing professional communication is good for everyone

EvEry oncE in a whilE I think we need a psychiatrist in our community. One of these times is when someone goes on a rant at the mere suggestion that soft skills have a place in the computing curriculum. More precisely, in that person’s classes. At such moments, I wish for a calm and soothing therapist to glide onto the scene. She or he points out that anger can be a reaction to feeling threatened and reminds us that examining the uncomfortable can be therapeutic. Our curricula and we can evolve together. Few now think of a career in the computing professions as sitting in a dark room, pasty face reflecting in the green glow. Computing educators know better. We know well that in order to succeed professionally our students will have to interact with customers, clients, and colleagues in new and unexpected ways. In response to that understanding, we have grown more accepting of the importance of including professional communication somewhere in our curricula. Evidence the expanded section for Social and Professional (SP) Issues in the CS2013 curricular recommendations for Computer Science. Still, there is pushback from some quarters about whether or not we should incorporate communication skills in our classes. We don’t have a resident computing therapist; we are on our own. Let’s percolate together on a response to any lingering resistance to integrating communication skills within the computing curriculum.

PERCOLATIONS Why I don't want to teach CS1 anymore

cs1 anymore assembly have in common with something else I find appealing—contextualized computing such as media computation or use of Alice. I know, big hot topic of debate. I’m going to sidestep that one and just say that for my purposes they all fall into the same camp. Why? Because, unlike that most despised language Java, there is in all those other languages and approaches a way to dig into something where you can see, feel, almost smell the results. With assembly (usually not CS1 material, but CS1+ material) there was the wonderful joy of manipulating those registers and drool-worthy opportunities to create tie-ins for new students about just how their mysterious machines worked! C had a similar ability to drill down into the system and I still get a joyous pedagogical grin when I think of all the times I created situations where unwary students would run over the bounds of an array and bring everything crashing down around their heads (or so it seemed to them). They learned something they never forgot about the internals of the machine, memory allocation, the importance of error checking, and developing their own debugging skills. Let me tell you: rarely did a student make that particular array mistake twice. More importantly they asked so many engaged questions and learned so much! C supported the creation of exercises like this whereas that darned Java and those darned bloated IDEs make it darned difficult to teach my fresh CS1 students in such a visceral way. Instead, we (they and me both) wade through Dante-esque agonies concerning the use of APIs, automated “helpful” features, and wads of other things that are not at all fun. Python, though I did not ultimately get to teach with it, was a blast to learn and I was all excited again about the possibilities for cutting past the smothering gobs of user interface helpfulness and developing exercises that not only taught a language but other things as well. Even more recently I sat in on a CS0 class using Alice which I helped develop in its early stages. Although there are many protective layers in Alice, I felt that those layers played a positive role. Introductory computing was fun again because I could see things hapI’ve been ponderIng thIs for a while because it is (mostly) true. I used to love teaching CS1 and other courses that came immediately on its heels. But now, with a few exceptions, I don’t. I’ve been wracking my brains about this because I am as passionate as ever about teaching, I love working with students and helping them learn especially when they are first getting their feet wet. In the last few years, I have channeled my interests into CSEd research, primarily on ... CS1 students. I continue to be fascinated by the way they think and by trying to figure out how to assist them with their learning. I got my first ever pair of glasses this week and in the odd synchronicity that I have come to expect in life they led me to think about teaching CS1+. When I sat those strange objects upon my nose I realized I was seeing the world as I used to see it. I hadn’t realized how much my vision had altered while I was paying attention to other things. Visual change snuck up on me just as a lessening interest in teaching CS1 snuck up on me. Unfortunately, resolving the CS1 issue isn’t a simple matter of plopping something on my nose or anywhere else. I had to think about this one. I re-read articles in the ACM Inroads magazine and other places for inspiration, percolated for a while, and finally, I think I got it. Teaching CS1 used to be fun—really fun. Now it is boring—really boring. I don’t care for programming in and of itself and I never have so that isn’t the source of the attitude change. But I can say with great emphasis that I really dislike Java. I will go so far as to say I really and truly dislike Java. Most CS1 courses nowadays are taught in Java. How can

All problems solved!: or, analytical thinking saves the day!

Our Goal: A peaceful and productive environment while attending the ICER conference A Key Desired Outcome: My roommate and I have a hotel room fully equipped in support of our business and personal needs The Measureable: The hotel room, like zillions of effective conference hotel rooms before it, will barely impinge on our awareness Our Reality: Challenges that would test our mettle and stretch our cognitive limits