Syllabi are a PITA, but they are necessary. They act as a contract, spelling out in writing what the student must do and when, as well as details relating to behavior, attendance, scheduling, and so forth. (No explosives in class, guys! It’s in the syllabus!) Syllabi are also there to explain to students what the objectives of the course are: a combination of “here’s what you get out of it” and “here’s what we expect you to know by the end.” In my program–sophomore composition–this section is standard and, in theory at least, we’re to use it unedited. I wonder how many of my colleagues have read it and really thought about it recently. I haven’t.

But now, I’m being called on to examine others’ approach to goals or learning objectives in three syllabi for similar courses. The first of the three I found was fairly detailed, ill-organized and confusing, and listed all of the usual sections except for objectives or goals. Presumably the chief goal is to pass and move on with your life. The second syllabus…well, it includes everything except for a calendar of assignments, but has only a course description explaining what students will do in the class. There is one brief sentence explaining who the course is for (“students whose academic or career objectives will benefit from strong, professional-level writing and research skills”–or, in other words, everyone). How odd. The third syllabus actually has an entire module of the class (which is online) dedicated to explaining the importance of the course, which is interesting. It’s something I address in person on the first day, but probably not enough in the online version. There is also a very short bulleted list of four course outcomes, which lists standard skills one should improve in such a class. (In brief: research, topic development, synthesis, writing.)

In our syllabus, the objectives are much more detailed, and are also skills based. That’s the nature of our program–and of most writing classes. While there are some specific terms and concepts we want them to learn, for the most part they are enhancing skills they will apply to the rest of their lives. In other words, I teach the most important course at VCU. In a sense, it also makes it easy for me to teach effectively: provide direction and feedback, and let them learn by doing. (Well, at least it’s easy in theory. Not so easy in terms of time and effort.) I also allow students a ggreat deal of latitude in selecting a research topic. Lame topics are off limits (body image and the media! performance enhancing drugs in professional sports! violence on TV!), and I strongly encourage them to pick a topic relevant to their intended career, so it’s helpful to them in multiple ways. But from there, students steer their own course. This makes it harder for me, in some ways, but more valuable for them, by far.

As for whether students feel especially inspired by these syllabi and the stated or implied goals: I doubt it. Thing is, students take these classes because they are obliged to, not because they want to. I can tell them about the value of the course, but mostly they just want it over. By the end of the semester, I believe they’ve seen value, both in terms of the knowledge they’ve gained and the skills they’ve enhanced, but it’s a struggle sometimes. And in some cases, the horse you’ve led to water just isn’t interested in your watering trough. Where does that leave me? With ideas (that I’ve been tossing around for a while now) about using prior student feedback on the class to help students understand the value going in–and to provide a more dynamic, visually interesting version of the syllabus online. Unfortunately, I’m still obliged to use the boilerplate text…but I don’t necessarily have to foreground it. Whether that will make much difference to my students will be interesting to see.