The UCLA inexperience: Ignorance is not bliss

Tuesday, January 27, 1998

The UCLA inexperience: Ignorance is not bliss

UCLA Quality of college education has declined due to misguided
focus

I like it here. Yet, while I am proud to be a Bruin, UCLA has
disappointed me. Perhaps my ultra-perfectionist, overly-critical,
nothing-is-ever-good-enough Virgo personality is to blame. But I am
not the only one who has noticed that the quality of education at
UCLA is sinking like the Titanic.

Every year UCLA slips down another notch in U.S. News &
World Report’s ratings. I can’t help but wonder if my net worth
depletes every time a future employer skims that magazine. They
used to say that UCLA was my ticket to the job world. Now I might
have to ride second class.

It deeply saddens me to think about what is missing from my UCLA
career. Not athletics or parties or friends or on-campus clubs or
construction, but edification that makes me think. I, along with
all of you, enjoy being here. Yet what do we really learn? How to
buy lecture notes? How to do the crossword puzzle? How to outsmart
the parking enforcement officers?

Where is our love for knowledge, our desire to be informed and
intelligent? Where is our passion? Some of us are lucky enough to
cling to these, despite the academic inadequacies that try to drag
us down. Others, helpless and victimized by the learning process,
blindly go through the motions of university life, acquiring little
along the way.

Before I go any further, let me say that I am more than aware
that UCLA is ultra competitive and that many, many more students
apply than can be admitted each fall. I am proud and lucky to be
here. I also know that, for the relatively low cost of attending
UCLA, this institution is one of the most well-rounded public
universities.

Yet I still remain dissatisfied.

The most prevalent issue is that many UCLA classes are boring.
Kind of like that sentence. Not all classes, certainly, but is it
fair to say most? Or half? How many times have you left a lecture
in a near coma after two hours of passive learning which ensures
that you retain nothing? All that pain and no gain.

If I were to ask how your classes are going this quarter, how
would you respond? Most likely with the word "OK." Sure … "OK." A
recent professor (one of the few engaging ones) pointed out that
the word "OK" is actually a euphemism to cover moderate
dissatisfaction.

Why don’t you say classes are stimulating or interesting? If
they’re for your major, you must have some mild inkling of interest
in the subject. While no class will offer an epiphany a day, they
should still make you think … about more than what frat houses
you are going to hit tonight.

Even if the class is not for your major but a dreaded general
education (GE) or college requirement, dull subjects can be brought
to life by good teachers. True, some material just plain sucks. Can
o-chem really be awe-inspiring? It just means that these professors
have a serious challenge: They must come up with innovative methods
and creative teaching to transform the horrific subjects into, if
not orgasmic, at least palatable, tolerable, slightly meaningful
issues that relate to the world around us. Is that too much to
ask?

I, for example, would rather drop dead than take a lower
division life science GE. But Dr. Kervorkian was busy this quarter
and I was forced to slump into my seat in Dodd as the life science
devil threw back his head in sardonic pleasure and cackled. I was
scared. I had dreaded this day for a long, long time. But
hallefrigginlujah — my professor had the ability to share his
passion and spark with me, to spark a minute interest in issues I
had never been able to grasp. I even (if you can believe this)
discussed the subject out of class!

That, my friends, is the work of a successful professor. When
his or her lesson extends out of the classroom, when he or she can
stimulate discussion and provoke thought and debate between you and
a friend over a pack of Oreos, education has spread.

It is unrealistic to expect all teachers to be stellar. But when
we’ve suffered through more dreary classes with stoic teachers than
enjoyable ones, something is wrong. I do not intend to insult the
hard-working faculty. I have no doubt that these bad profs are nice
people and that they are much smarter than I. (If they could just
teach me …)

Last quarter, for perhaps the third time in my whole UCLA
career, I was fortunate enough to be in a truly great class. The
material was fascinating and the professor was passionate and
animated. His love of teaching and expertise stunned my eardrums
every time he got excited and started waving his arms around and
spitting. Those were the days. The students were actively involved
in vigorous discussions every time the class met. I looked forward
to that class. I learned an immense amount from it. And I will
remember it as one of the best classes I have ever had here.

When I look at how much I learned from that class, a class where
the professor took his abstract theories and applied them to real
life so they had meaning, I am impressed. But I shouldn’t be. That
should be the norm.

That professor empowered me to look differently at the world
around me (not an easy task, obstinate as I am). I wonder how
greatly improved my overall education would be if every one of my
classes was so stimulating. Too idyllic? But that class embodied
education. Our lives have the potential to be changed by
influential professors and their classes. And isn’t that what
college is supposed to be? An intellectual transition? I would hate
to emerge from UCLA with less money and a piece of paper but no new
knowledge.

I don’t think teaching is an easy job. I couldn’t do it. But I’d
like to think that the professors at UCLA can. (Am I too
demanding?) But do they want to? Not all professors love to
teach.

When I ask people what the biggest academic dilemma is at UCLA,
many bring up the fact that our professors care more about research
than they do about teaching. Having done no quantitative study on
the subject, such as surveying the faculty and comparing how much
time and effort that they spend teaching versus doing
research-related work, I cannot say for sure.

But how else can you explain the abundance of genius researchers
and horrid classes?

Although UCLA fosters more undergraduates than graduate
students, the university overwhelmingly caters graduate work and
research. Yes, this is a research institution. But not all
researchers can teach.

Yes, I know the laws of economics. I understand that big
research means big grants which means big money deposited into the
school. But I also see the other side of the economic equation. I
see my big money (actually, my dad’s) being deposited into the
school so I can learn. Yet how can I learn when professors do not
like to teach? Why do we pay for researchers who teach the
obligatory class when the department forces it upon them? Teaching
is equal to, if not more important, than research. If you do not
teach those who are young now, who will do the research when the
researchers have retired with their Nobel prizes? I suppose that
will be left to the former undergrads who were not taught how to
think.

And don’t even get me started on teaching assistants. Again, the
sheer size of UCLA makes TAs a necessity. But more often than not
they have actually impeded my learning process. Half do not speak
at a decibel level I can hear. Others talk to the chalkboard. Still
others speak such small fragments of English that it is virtually
impossible to understand their explanations or for them to
understand our questions. This is especially damaging in some of
the harder subjects like economics and statistics.

Whose idea was it to have the worst TAs in the hardest classes
where we need the most extra help?

And haven’t we all had the experience of having the "bad" TA who
comes to section and says, "What do you want me to talk about?"
while the rest of the class has the "good" one who gives out study
sheets, prepares for discussion sections and actually has things to
say. This is blatantly unfair and gives half the class an extreme
advantage over the others. And if the class is graded on a curve?
What exactly do they teach in TA school?

A large portion of my UCLA career has been spent dealing with
assorted academic pitfalls such as those detailed above. And in the
end, I am not the only one who suffers. We all do. When our
learning is compromised, so is our future.

There will be students who think a column about academia is
cheesy or a waste of space, but they need to grow up. They are
simply in the wrong place. The rest of us want to be here, like to
be here and yearn to learn here. Now if we could just get a little
more help from the faculty …

I imagined the UCLA experience to be one where diverse people
shared one commonality: their thirst for knowledge and love of
academia. Yet I was a fool.

Here I am, just one average student with average complaints and
average dissatisfactions with the quality of my education. Now
multiply this by 20,000 undergrads. Such is the UCLA
experience.