Let's open those books!

A long-standing criticism of the Singaporean educational system, particularly at the primary and secondary school levels, is the prevalence of rote learning (a.k.a. "mugging" in Singaporean vernacular). Students memorize tonnes of facts and formulas and regurgitate it during their exams like so many Merlions. These students end up doing reasonably well in their standardized 'O'-level examinations, but they lack any deep understanding of the material.

This problem has been recognized by the Ministry of Education, and steps have been taken in order to address it (e.g., the Teach Less, Learn More initiative). Accordingly, one of the primary objectives of Ngee Ann Polytechnic is to produce well-rounded students with in-depth understanding of the material so that they can effectively apply them to real-life situations.

I taught two modules last semester, Object Oriented Analysis and Design (OOAD) and Computing Mathematics (CM). I observed that many students, following their tried-and-tested tactic of mugging, spent a significant amount of time memorizing facts and formulas without necessarily understanding them. For example, during study week I was called down to one of the classrooms before the OOAD exam to answer some queries by some of my students who have formed a study group. When I got there, they were in the process of reproducing the diagram for the Waterfall Software Development Life Cycle (SDLC) as given in the lecture slides:

The Waterfall SDLC. Actually, it's more accurate to say a Waterfall SDLC.

The students were memorizing the seven phases as depicted in the diagram. Not only that, they were memorizing the bullet points given in the slides that explain what each phase involves. Note that the Waterfall SDLC simply describes the method of organizing a project such that each phase is completed (together with the necessary documentation and safeguards) before the next phase begins. There is no one accepted "official" Waterfall SDLC in terms of what the actual phases are; the diagram above just happens to be the one given in our recommended textbook. Search "Waterfall SDLC" in Google Images and you'll find a dozen different depictions. Can you say, "missing the forest for the trees?"

Unfortunately, I can't blame the students. One of the questions in the exam asked for a diagrammatic explanation of the most appropriate SDLC for a case study along with explanations of the phases. Assuming the correct SDLC was identified, students who "mugged" the diagram and bullet point explanations would have scored full marks for that question. Students are nothing if not results-oriented, and mugging gets them results.

There were similar issues for the CM module. Students have to memorize and recall various formulas such as how to calculate variance and conditional probability during their exams, which distracts them from the task of understanding and applying said formulas correctly. Admittedly, people who are familiar with these formulas (such as us no-life lecturers) should be able to recall them without using a reference, but these are first-year students who have been introduced to many of these concepts for the first time. Why give them the extra burden of recall if the emphasis is on understanding?

Both of these modules have primarily closed-book assessments, and so are most of the modules in Ngee Ann. In fact, there seems to be an unwritten rule worldwide that assessments should be closed-book by default. However, for the purpose of promoting deeper understanding and lateral thinking, I am a firm believer of open-book assessments, where the students have access to reference material during the assessment. In fact, if possible I would let the students have access to the Internet, because most of them get their information from the likes of Google and Wikipedia anyway.

Let's examine some of the more common arguments for closed-book (and against open-book) assessments, shall we?

Argument #1: Sometimes you need to recall the facts instantaneously

This is a favourite argument for those who prefer to keep the reference materials away from students during exams. "Sometimes, when you are on the job, you don't have access to reference materials or you don't have time. Therefore, students should get used to not having reference materials." Frankly, I don't buy it.

Firstly, there aren't that many jobs where you can't take time out to check out your reference materials. We're living in an information age where most people bring the Internet along with them on their mobile phones or laptops, so Google and Wikipedia are just a tap or mouse-click away. Even if you're somehow unable to get an Internet connection, unless you happen to be studying how to defuse bombs, perform field surgery in a combat situation or juggle chainsaws, you can generally take the time to get to your reference materials.

Secondly, I seriously doubt that having closed-book exams prepares a student for on-the-job situations anyway. The ability to recall relevant facts comes mainly from repetition and frequent use, not from memorizing them for an exam. For example, I wrote a paper a couple of years ago where I proposed a heuristic for a rectangle packing problem, but I wouldn't be able to recall it now. On the other hand, I've been teaching UML class diagrams for the past two semesters, so I'd be pretty confident about coming up with a class diagram for any given system without using reference materials.

The point I'm making is that not allowing the students access to reference materials requires them to memorize facts that they could easily look up. This distracts them from the more important task, which is figuring out how to best apply the concepts in actual situations. Let them acquire the ability to do stuff unassisted when they're actually on the job, not when they're still learning the basics.

Argument #2: We should test students on their recall ability, which is impossible if the assessment is open-book

Closed-book exams allow recall-type questions, such as asking the student to provide a definition of a term or to reproduce a mathematical formula. The reasoning goes, "I would like to see if the student knows floozle, but if the exam is open-book, then the student can just copy from the textbook. By making it closed-book, I can ask for the definition of floozle to see if the student truly understands floozle." For a field such as law, where an accomplished lawyer should be able to quote a piece of legislation, this reasoning seems appropriate. But it's not.

There is no real benefit to being able to memorize and regurgitate, say, Section 205 Subsection 2 of the Singapore Copyright Act, not if you know how to find the relevant section if you were given the legislation document. The value of a good lawyer is in his interpretation of the law, and the same is true for other fields. Reproducing the definition of floozle does not show understanding of floozle, it shows the ability to memorize text.

So how would one test for understanding of a concept? Place the concept in a new context to see if the student is able to apply it correctly. Give him a scenario and ask him to evaluate the advantages and disadvantages of floozling as it relates to this particular scenario. This forces the student to apply the concept rather than simply recall it. Coincidentally, open-book assessments must necessarily consist of such application- or analysis-centric questions.

Argument #3: Students might spend too much time looking up information during the exam, time that would have been saved if it have been memorized

I've heard this argument before, and it's actually based on fact. I've observed that when some students have a stack of textbooks and notes with them in the exam hall, their OCD kicks in and they tend to spend an inordinate amount of time checking and re-checking their answers just to make sure that everything is correct. As a result, they might run out of time and not be able to complete the exam. 

This phenomenon is the result of the students not knowing how to best use reference materials; they are so used to mugging for closed-book exams that when the assessment is open-book, they don't know what to do. The ability to quickly find, parse, assess, analyze and apply reference material is an important skill to have, and it's a skill that many students lack. Therefore, rather than giving them closed-book exams so that they don't have to reference materials under time pressure, we should do the opposite. Let's give them a reason to acquire this skill. After all, students are nothing if not results-oriented.

Another issue with open-book assessments - financial considerations

Argument #4: Open-book exams are hard to execute

And herein lies the main reason for not having open-book assessments: in general, they're much harder to execute than closed-book assessments. For certain topics like math, this isn't such a big issue, but for other topics it's a major pain in the posterior.

When the students have access to external materials, you can no longer ask them straightforward questions like "define floozle" or "list all the types of floozle", or even "describe the advantages and disadvantages of floozles." Instead, all questions have to have some element of analysis and/or application, usually based on an example or case study. Such questions also often have multiple valid answers (that's the nature of real-life scenarios), so they're difficult to mark objectively.

Some of you may be thinking, "sure it's hard to do, but as conscientious and hardworking lecturers you should just suck it up and do it anyway." Well, this semester I'm the module leader for Advanced Object Oriented Analysis and Design (AOOAD) and I elected to make all assessments open-book. Let me tell you, creating the assessments was not easy, and marking them was even worse. There are only 33 students taking AOOAD in total, and for some of the class quizzes I received many different answers to certain questions. For each of them I had to evaluate if it was correct, and if not I still had to figure out a fair way to award partial credit. This rarely happened for the closed-book assessments of OOAD, simply due to the nature of the questions.

Extrapolate this issue over a module with larger enrolment (such as OOAD with about 150 students) and you can imagine the difficulties involved. True, a team of dedicated lecturers should be able to handle this with lots of sweat, toil and overtime, but the number of man-hours available is limited. Is it worth spending so much time creating and marking open-book assessments, or should we just use closed-book assessments and spend the time elsewhere?

In conclusion, I feel that open-book assessments should be seriously considered whenever possible. They teach students important skills such as how to use properly and efficiently use reference materials, de-emphasizes rote learning and emphasizes understanding and application. It's not easy, but if there is enough time and energy to execute it properly, I believe the benefits are substantial. The book vendors might thank you too.

How my AOOAD students addressed the financial issue

Or maybe not.

Game Innovation Programme

SUTD Game Lab is looking for applicants for their Game Innovation Programme, which is essentially an internship where you'll participate in the complete game development process. Over the course of about 3 months, you'll work in a team to develop a game from inception and design to implementation and testing. The cool thing about this programme is the input by game industry professionals, who will be visiting your team on-site to offer constructive criticism and advice.

If you're thinking of possibly starting a career in the games industry, I firmly believe that the Game Innovation Programme is an excellent first step. It has several things going for it:

• You'll get to work in a full game development team, including programmers, designers and artists. This allows you to experience working in a team environment, which is one of those things that prospective employers are looking out for.
• Something else that is paramount when looking for a job in the game industry is your portfolio. At the end of this programme, if all goes well you will have a complete, full-featured game. Not only that, this will be a better game than if you made one on your own because you'll have other team members to help you out, not to mention industry professionals giving their input.
• Speaking of industry professionals, if you impress them during the programme, there is a pretty good chance that they will offer you a job. After all, they are always on the lookout for talent for their companies, which is one of the reasons why they're helping out in the programme in the first place.
• You get paid. Not much, but better than an unpaid internship, right?

It's not all wine and roses though:

• First, you have to get selected, and these positions are open to pretty much everybody, including university undergraduates and graduates, so it's pretty competitive. The applications require you to do some homework, and you'll have to go through a proficiency test, and you'll still have to go through an interview if you're shortlisted, and you might still get cut. If you don't feel that it's worth all this trouble, then this programme is not for you.
• Be prepared to work hard. You'll be expected to produce something tangible pretty much every week, and if you're running behind you should take up the slack on your own accord, even if it means overtime.
• In previous years, the Game Lab was called Gambit and there was a collaboration with MIT. Unfortunately, this collaboration wasn't renewed, so although what you do and learn in the programme is similar to what was done before, there isn't a free trip to Boston included. Anyway, if a plane ticket to the US is one of the primary motivations for applying to this position, you're probably not what they're looking for.

In summary, I highly recommend trying out for this Game Innovation Programme if you are interested in pursuing games development as a career. It'll be tough, but ultimately well worth it. Check out their Facebook page, and get your application materials here. Closing date is noon, 22 February 2013.

And no, I am in no way affiliated with the SUTD Game Lab. :)

Why I love to teach

I confess: I love to teach. I'm one of those insufferable people who is actually happy with his job (well, the teaching part of it, anyway). This confession is going to cost me on my next salary review, isn't it?

But this post is on why I love to teach. Is it because I want to make a difference in people's lives, like Robin Williams in Dead Poets' Society or Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Minds (but preferably without any of my students winding up dead)? Well, that's part of it. I'm an incurable idealist, and I do want to make a positive difference in the lives of my students. I would love to show my students the joy of programming or the wonder of an elegant mathematical solution, thereby fueling a passion for learning and creating the next Bill Gates or Steve Jobs.

On the other hand, teaching is by no means the only way you can make a difference. No, I don't mean that I could have been a doctor who saves lives, or a lawyer who upholds justice. More realistically, I could have been an IT professional who writes high-quality applications that help people do their jobs more efficiently every day. Heck, I could have been a bus driver and make a difference by brightening up the days of my passengers by being courteous and helpful. So while being a goody-two-shoes boy scout is part of the reason I love to teach, it's by no means my main reason.

Is it because I love what I teach? I do find joy in programming, in coming up with an elegant way to solve a problem using a computer. The enjoyment is a lot like what I get from playing a game or solving a puzzle. On the other hand, I often get assigned to teach topics that are not my first choice, like business statistics or object oriented analysis and design. Don't get me wrong - although these topics are not where my primary interests lie, I still enjoy teaching them. But if I could cherry-pick my modules, I'd pick programming modules every time.

Maybe I love interacting with students? Sort of, but not in the way you might think. According to my Myers-Briggs profile, I'm quite an introvert. I'm not the sort to enjoy noisy parties or go out to night club for drinks and dancing (and if you've seen me dance, you wouldn't want me along either). My preferred social interaction is to have a couple of close friends play a board game with me and my wife. So while I'm always happy to accept a new Facebook friend request from a student, I'd be just as happy if I could spend more time with the friends I already have.

So what's the real reason? Frankly, it's because I'm a big fat show-off. That's right, I'm one of those people who watches American Idol and thinks, "I'd knock everyone's socks off if I were to try out for that. If only I was American. And 20 years younger. And could sing."

It's just a happy coincidence that making the lessons entertaining is the best way to get the students to listen and learn. Every time I teach, I approach it like a mini-performance, and I get a thrill when my students respond to my teaching; I suspect the feeling I get when my students understand the material and do well in their tests is similar to what actors feel when they hear their audience's applause. And unlike performing in a show, the students aren't allowed to boo me.

Teaching is essentially a big ego trip for me, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. :)

First post!

Image from www.sgag.sg

Hi everyone, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Oon Wee Chong, and I am a lecturer at Ngee Ann Polytechnic, School of InfoComm Technology. The main purpose of this blog is to record my thoughts on what it's like to teach a bunch of 16 to 19-year-olds stuff like programming, system design and (gasp!) math. As you can imagine, teaching in a poly is not always easy. They're called Gen Y for a reason ("Do your work!" "But Y?").

Incidentally, I'm not going to restrict myself to only stuff about teaching, so there will also be posts on, well, anything that interests me. It's my blog and I can post what I want. :)

For the sake of full disclosure, this blog was started to fulfill the "Teaching Portfolio" assignment of my Professional Education and Training (PDE) requirement, which is a training course that every lecturer in Ngee Ann Polytechnic has to pass. Anyway, I've always wanted to start something like a blog so that I can archive all my random ideas, but haven't had the time or inclination to start. See? Assignments force you to do stuff, which is good for people like me who need a push every now and then.

Note: for the non-Singaporeans out there, "Poly" is short for "polytechnic", and "Cher" is short for "teacher", which is what many of my students call me. There is absolutely no connection to I Got You Babe.