Tag: heads

  • These teens can do incredible math in their heads but fail in a classroom

    These teens can do incredible math in their heads but fail in a classroom

    When I was 12, my family lived adjacent to a small farm. Though I was not old enough to work, the farm’s owner, Mr. Hall, hired me to man his roadside stand on weekends. Mr. Hall had one rule: no calculators. Technology wasn’t his vibe. 

    Math was my strong suit in school, but I struggled to tally the sums in my head. I weighed odd amounts of tomatoes, zucchini and peppers on a scale and frantically scribbled calculations on a notepad. When it got busy, customers lined up waiting for me to multiply and add. I’m sure I mischarged them.

    I was thinking about my old job as I read a quirky math study published this month in the journal Nature. Nobel Prize winning economists Abhijit Banerjee and Esther Duflo, a husband and wife research team at MIT, documented how teenage street sellers who were excellent at mental arithmetic weren’t good at rudimentary classroom math. Meanwhile, strong math students their same age couldn’t calculate nearly as well as impoverished street sellers.

    “When you spend a lot of time in India, what is striking is that these market kids seem to be able to count very well,” said Duflo, whose primary work in India involves alleviating poverty and raising the educational achievement of poor children.  “But they are really not able to go from street math to formal math and vice versa.”

    Related: Our free weekly newsletter alerts you to what research says about schools and classrooms.

    In a series of experiments, Duflo’s field staff in India pretended to be ordinary shoppers and purposely bought unusual quantities of items from more than 1,400 child street sellers in Delhi and Kolkata. A purchase might be 800 grams of potatoes at 20 rupees per kilogram and 1.4 kilograms of onions at 15 rupees per kilogram. Most of the child sellers quoted the correct price of 37 rupees and gave the correct change from a 200 rupee note without using a calculator or pencil and paper. The odd quantities were to make sure the children hadn’t simply memorized the price of common purchases. They were actually making calculations. 

    However, these same children, the majority of whom were 14 or 15 years old, struggled to solve much simpler school math problems, such as basic division. (After making the purchases, the undercover shoppers revealed their identities and asked the sellers to participate in the study and complete a set of abstract math exercises.)

    The market sellers had some formal education. Most were attending school part time, or had previously been in school for years.

    Duflo doesn’t know how the young street sellers learned to calculate so quickly in their heads. That would take a longer anthropological study to observe them over time. But Duflo was able to glean some of their strategies, such as rounding. For example, instead of multiplying 490 by 20, the street sellers might multiply 500 by 20 and then remove 10 of the 20s, or 200. Schoolchildren, by contrast, are prone to making lengthy pencil and paper calculations using an algorithm for multiplication. They often don’t see a more efficient way to solve a problem.

    Lessons from this research on the other side of the world might be relevant here in the United States. Some cognitive psychologists theorize that learning math in a real-world context can help children absorb abstract math and apply it in different situations. However, this Indian study shows that this type of knowledge transfer probably won’t happen automatically or easily for most students. Educators need to figure out how to better leverage the math skills that students already have, Duflo said. Easier said than done, I suspect.  

    Related: Do math drills help children learn?

    Duflo says her study is not an argument for either applied or abstract math.  “It would be a mistake to conclude that we should switch to doing only concrete problems because we also see that kids who are extremely good at concrete problems are unable to solve an abstract problem,” she said. “And in life, at least in school life, you’re going to need both.” Many of the market children ultimately drop out of school altogether.

    Back at my neighborhood farmstand, I remember how I magically got the hang of it and rarely needed pencil and paper after a few months. Sadly, the Hall farm is no longer there for the town’s children to practice mental math. It’s now been replaced by a suburban subdivision of fancy houses. 

    Contact staff writer Jill Barshay at 212-678-3595 or [email protected].

    This story about applied math was written by Jill Barshay and produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for Proof Points and other Hechinger newsletters.

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  • Registrars assembling – the history of the Association of Heads of University Administration

    Registrars assembling – the history of the Association of Heads of University Administration

    Many will not have seen this rather wonderful short history of AHUA, the Association of Heads of University Administration, published in 2024 and written by John Hogan, who retired as registrar at Newcastle University in 2022.

    Having been involved in AHUA for 18 years to the end of 2024, including 11 years on the executive and a couple of years as Honorary Secretary, I thought I had seen quite a lot in terms of the association’s development. However, as this report shows, I really did not know the half of it and my contributions were genuinely minor alongside the achievements of those who went before.

    In development

    The origins of what is now AHUA date back, in formal records at least, to a “Registrars’ Conference” in 1939, just before the outbreak of war. It was attended by ten people representing seven different universities (with apologies from two more) and chaired by the registrar of Durham University, William Angus (later secretary at the University of Aberdeen from 1952 to 1967 and referred to by his previous colleagues as “Aberdeen Angus,” apparently).

    Extract from the minutes of the 1939 Registrars’ Conference

    While some of the issues discussed were very much of the time, such as air raid precautions, others have contemporary resonance such as ensuring inclusion of students on the electoral register. Admittedly this was a slightly different situation given that there were university constituencies at that time and there were real concerns about institutions’ ability adequately to count potential electors. Other issues though seem very familiar including student health, international students, admissions qualifications and student fees.

    As the organisation developed as the Conference of Registrars and Secretaries (CRS), after the war it became UK-wide and spent considerable time in the 1960s discussing and dealing with an expanded HE sector such that it had 23 UK universities in membership by then.

    As noted in John Hogan’s report – and as is evident from the photographs from conferences in the 60s through to the early 90s – it was a hugely white male-dominated organisation for many years, reflective of university administrations at that time.

    Fortunately, much has changed in composition since then. Structures in universities were rather different in those days too although for the whole membership, regardless of title, a core duty was acting as a confidential source of advice and support for the vice chancellor. Further elements identified in the 1960s which continue to be a part of many AHUA members’ roles include leading a significant portfolio of university services and advising the university’s statutory bodies and other senior officers. Relative to today numbers were tiny – only around 400 administrative staff in 1953 rising to a still modest figure of around 1,900 by 1973, although both of these numbers exclude what were deemed “clerical” posts.

    It is also interesting to note that, under the auspices of the Committee of Vice-Chancellors and Principals (CVCP), a number of registrars were heavily involved in the establishment of the Universities Central Council on Admissions (UCCA) in 1961. This body, reformed as the Universities and Colleges Admissions Service – UCAS – in 1993, was for many years notable as an example of a genuinely efficient and effective shared service in supporting university admissions (although its governance structure and mission has changed somewhat since then).

    Topical matters

    In determining conference topics members were consulted via paper questionnaires on the issues of the day (although, entertainingly, this process generated a big bureaucracy which had to be scaled back). In 1964, responses were sought on the following:

    What information was held in student records, the ratio of secretarial to academic staff, the operation of telephone systems, the appointment of supervisors for higher degrees, amongst many other matters.

    Moreover, the records uncovered by the author show some problems are perennial:

    The fraudulent publication of degree certificates was a concern at the 1948 Conference. Student behaviour, and car parking both featured in 1962. Pressure to change the academic year from October–September to January–December was first acknowledged in 1965. Nearly all universities had considered the possibility and rejected it.

    Excitingly, IT became a white-hot topic in the 1960s and there were discussions over the national coordination of student records – this led to a working party involving the UGC and the Royal Statistical Society. As I recently noted here, the issue has not gone away…

    As Hogan notes, the records of proceedings appear generally cordial, although:

    The occasional acerbic comment was captured in the minutes. Ernest Bettenson, (Registrar of the University of Durham 1952 then of University of Newcastle upon Tyne 1963–1976) expressed the view that the 1972 “…White Paper was like Mrs Thatcher (its author as Education Minister) – well set out and attractive, but somehow unlovable.

    Beyond these formal matters, conferences also included cultural and social events including a formal dinner which, I am astonished to learn, was black tie until 2006 (thankfully that stopped before I joined in the following year). Other features which have, mercifully, not survived include the spouses’ programme, golf sessions and alcohol sponsorship (no fewer than three distilleries were sponsors for the 1995 conference in Aberdeen).

    Grappling with the issues

    CRS operations became a bit more business-like towards the end of the 1970s with the establishment of a standing steering committee and the appointment of a business secretary. Following the significant cuts in funding from 1981–82 the focus of discussions was very much on the consequent organisational challenges and, as Hogan notes:

    More horizon-scanning can be identified in CRS’s discussions during the 1980s than previously. William Waldegrave, then Parliamentary Under Secretary of State in the Department of Education and Science, predicted mergers across the so-called binary line, between universities and polytechnics, within the following ten years, when he spoke to the Conference in 1983.

    Plenty of contemporary echoes there. The Jarratt Report (1985) on management efficiency divided opinion in the CRS, with some supportive and others more sceptical or indeed scathing. Apparently, Jim Walsh, registrar at the University of Leeds, was particularly vocal:

    …warning members that he would oppose any attempt to turn the Conference into a kind of “Jarratt Enforcement” agency and distributing a criticism of the proposals under the title “A Load of Old Cobblers?”

    It is reassuring that CRS members struggled with its name back in the late 1980s in the same way as successors have ever since. It was accepted that “the name ‘conference’ was unhelpful, and ‘association’ was more attractive except for the resulting acronym – ARS.”

    However, before that issue could be resolved the CRS had to grapple with the more serious issue of the impact of the ending of the binary line. While almost every established university in 1992 had a registrar or secretary, the structures in the newer universities was much more varied meaning that it took some time to come to a full settlement on who would be eligible to join an expanded organisation.

    And then, of course, a new name was required. ARS was off the table so the “Association of University Heads of Administration” or the “Association of Heads of University Administration” were the preferred options. CVCP was consulted and it seems some vice chancellors were unhappy with the title on the basis that they saw themselves as the head of the administration. Anyway, a decision was made and the name and abbreviation everyone struggles to pronounce to this day was agreed upon.

    You’ve come a long way

    Hogan goes on to note the broader engagement of AHUA and its member with regulators and other sector agencies from the late 1990s onwards as well as the importance of its regional groupings and the key role played by full-time professional staff support from 2001 (Catherine Webb served as Executive Secretary from 2006 to 2024, providing vital continuity and vast expertise). Policy concerns at executive meetings and conferences throughout the last two decades have included governance, statute changes, pensions, the need for better regulation and a reduction in the regulatory burden.

    Other significant developments in the recent period have included development programmes, for new and aspiring registrars, growing the association’s communications and influencing activities, developing the national Ambitious Futures graduate training programme (which sadly ended as a consequence of the pandemic) and a reciprocal mentoring programme between staff of colour and AHUA launched. All were driven forward by a (much missed) former chair, Jonathan Nicholls, who also sought to establish AHUA as the “go-to” professional organisation in the sector.

    AHUA, as Hogan’s history shows, has come a long way but remains a key UK-wide sector organisation with a slightly more diverse membership than in the past, but there is still some way to go there. It’s an organisation of which I hugely valued being a part and it is great to read this short but comprehensive report on AHUA’s origins and development.

    AHUA Spring Conference 2024 at the University of Leeds

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  • OfS with their heads: is Cromwell to blame?

    OfS with their heads: is Cromwell to blame?

    by Paul Temple

    If you’ve been watching the BBC adaptation of Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light, you may like me have been surprised by how little higher education featured in the story. (All right, they couldn’t cover every aspect of sixteenth-century English life, but still.) England’s two universities at that time (Scotland of course had four by the end of the sixteenth century) had essential roles as the principal providers of the skilled workforces that expanding commercial, administrative, and legal functions needed – although where Thomas Cromwell himself (played by Mark Rylance) gained his legal and administrative skills remains a mystery: presumably they were picked up during his travels as a young man around Europe. As a study covering a slightly earlier period put it, the medieval university professionalized knowledge, with increasingly specialised courses fitting students for careers in secular professions (Leff, 1968). Religious instruction, sometimes assumed to be the main function of the pre-modern university, was largely undertaken in separate monastic and cathedral schools. These might have developed into universities with secular roles, but instead in England largely faded away.

    The significance of England’s two universities is indicated by the powers that Cromwell took to control them in his ascent through English government in the 1530s. At Oxford, he saved the institution that his patron Cardinal Wolsey had established as Cardinal College and turned it into Christ Church College; and in 1534 “wrested the Visitorship of New College [by then 155 years old] from its customary holder as Bishop of Winchester, Stephen Gardiner” (MacCulloch, 2018: 275) – Cromwell’s implacable enemy, played creepily in the series by Mark Gatiss. This created another grudge that Gardiner held against Cromwell, and which he would repay with interest. Tensions surrounding what we would now call the governance of higher education had surprisingly important ramifications in the politics of the Tudor court. (Wolsey also established in 1528 a college in Ipswich, his place of birth, but for a number of complicated reasons it was short-lived, and so never, as it presumably might have done, became England’s third university.)

    Medieval and early-modern Oxford University was continually engaged in disputes, sometimes violent ones, with the city, and Cromwell was apparently regularly called in to arbitrate. This was the man at the very centre of the administration of the English state: if the Cabinet Secretary dropped in to help your University sort out a planning problem with the local council, it would indicate, I think, that we were looking at a big deal nationally. (We may gain a sense of the scale of these town vs gown disputes by referring to what are known as the St Scholastica’s Day riots of 1354 which led to the deaths of 62 Oxford scholars. As Oxford student numbers have been estimated at around 1,500 at this time, this implies a remarkable death toll of about 4% of the student population. Not for the last time in troubles involving university students, drink seems to have been implicated.)

    It seems that Cambridge University felt that they were getting a bit left out, and so in 1534 offered Cromwell the position of High Steward and a year later elected him Chancellor, in place of Bishop John Fisher, who was executed that year – although not, it seems, as a result of any failures in university leadership (MacCulloch, 2018: 276); so unfortunately we cannot properly read this as a warning about the risks involved in university management. It seems that Cromwell’s first job at Cambridge was to deal with the town vs gown hostilities centred around the annual fair held on Stourbridge Common: presumably he was by now something of an expert in managing these conflicts. He was also, it seems, interested in what we would now call curriculum reform, despite having no personal experience of university study: as MacCulloch remarks, under Cromwell’s direction, this was the first time “government had intruded on the internal affairs of Oxford and Cambridge, an interference that has never thereafter ceased” (306). Some of the blame for the activities of the Office for Students must therefore be traceable back to Thomas Cromwell: how did Hilary Mantel miss this plot angle?

    References

    Leff, G (1968) Paris and Oxford Universities in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries New York, NY: Wiley

    MacCulloch, D (2018) Thomas Cromwell: A Life London: Allen Lane

    Dr Paul Temple is Honorary Associate Professor in the Centre for Higher Education Studies, UCL Institute of Education.

    Author: SRHE News Blog

    An international learned society, concerned with supporting research and researchers into Higher Education

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