The classroom I taught in this semester was fairly hot. Even when it was chilly outside, the temperature in the classroom was uncomfortably warm.
Of course, I think it might have been worse for me (pacing in front of the whiteboard, trying to keep things lively) than for the students most of the time. But today, we had the final exam in that room. And unlike most class meetings, every single chair in the room was filled.
And we experienced record highs, temperature-wise.
So, how hot was it? I give you the testimony of one of the students taking the final today:
“I blame any mistakes on the fact [that] my paper caught [on] fire!”
For the record, the student’s paper totally didn’t catch on fire. But I’ll agree that it was closer to that eventuality than any of us were comfortable with.
Classroom temperature is one of my pet peeves. While the test taker above was being humorous, I sort of agree with the sentiment. It’s very difficult to learn when the classroom temperature is way out of whack with normal. And to further the problem, it seems like there’s never anyone who can fix the problem (I am convinced that even the president of the university doesn’t have the authority to adjust the thermostat).
I give a few lectures every year to first-year medical students in a room that gets very hot. I tend to wear a sweater over a t-shirt and jeans when I lecture, but one of the lectures this year it was so fucking hot I couldn’t take it.
So midway through the lecture, I stopped for a moment to take off the sweater. As I pulled the sweater over my head, the students broke out into raucous hooting and applause.
During my second biology exam the fluorescent lights in the room kept flicking, so much so that they started to give me a headache. It’s probably coincidence that I failed that exam, but the environment I was in definitely didn’t help.
Physioprof,
Are you suggesting that next time it gets that hot, Janet should take off….? Nah, not you. You’ll never even think of such thing 😉
What does “fill-ins” mean?
It is my understanding that all the temperatures (in classrooms and faculty offices) are controlled remotely. This ensures that they are never comfortable to the people in the rooms.
“Fill-ins” are a question type where words or phrases in a sentence have been replaced by blanks. The test-takers must fill in these blanks with the appropriate words or phrases. (I provide a set of words and phrases from which to choose answers, rather than making them pluck them out of the air. However, I always have a few more words and phrases to choose from than there are blanks to be filled.)
I am very sensitive to heat, and spent countless days out of school because the rooms were hot enough to make me pass out.
I can only recall one time I was not hot in school. It was when the heat broke down in the winter, and the skylight was stuck open with snow coming into the room.
You have “fill in the gap” exercises in university exams? That is somewhat surprising.
Hi, I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s absolutely not necessary to write catch “on” fire. For instance, see the Merriam Webster entry on catch.
I once talked to someone from Johnson Controls who told us that uncomfortable rooms are most commonly uncomfortable because sensors have failed or been disconnected. Sometimes, the problem is that the original design for the sensor locations was poor or the sensor was put in a more convenient spot for the installer. Rarely is the setting what is wrong.
I teach fall semesters in a large (250+ seat) auditorium that as far as I can tell has no temperature regulation in it whatsoever. One large wall is exposed to the outside, and the main doors shut tight when they are closed. Not that it matters; there is no air-flow when they are open. In September (still summer in New England) when all the kids are first there, the sweat pours off of everyone. The kids are practically sitting there in their underwear (sleeveless T-shirts, bikini tops, shorts, and miniskirts are not uncommon). By the last week of class in mid-December (often bitter cold in New England), the kids are huddled in their parkas, taking notes while wearing gloves, and watching their breath condense in the air. I presume that spring semester sees the reverse effect in that classroom, but then I’m usually in another room. No air flow there, either, but also no exposed outside walls. Unfortunately, this second one is a large utilitarian concrete echo chamber in the basement, with absolutely no semblance of charm. Not entirely sure which one is worse.
Maybe Michigan is a pleasant departure from the norm, as we have thermostats in every room that can be controlled by anyone. Took me awhile to find one in the first semester I was teaching. Ever since then, I have adjusted liberally. Even better, the thermostats respond pretty quickly, so you get nice cooling power (from outside air in the winter) or heat (outside air in the summer) pretty quickly.
Of course, I had one prof this past semester who likes the room cool. And that’s to him when he’s running around lecturing, which meant cold to the rest of us. He never asked why we wore hats and gloves to class, and he scoffed whenever we’d tell him that it was too cold in the room.