Unlike its peer institutions, Vanderbilt’s most popular major isn’t English, Economics or History. It is Human and Organizational Development—known around campus as HOD.
Though many students come to Vanderbilt not even knowing what HOD stands for, it doesn’t take long for rumors about the use of art supplies to circulate. Soon, even engineers who have never set foot on Peabody’s magnolia-covered lawn have formed an opinion about the unique major. As a freshman, I soon realized that saying, “She’s HOD,” is often meant to convey more than just someone’s major classification.
Given the general attitude on campus toward HOD, people are often surprised when Vanderbilt releases a list of the average starting salaries of its undergraduates broken down by major, and HOD students are consistently at the top. When I heard this, I wondered how it was possible that a major that produces some of Vanderbilt’s most successful graduates could earn such a negative stereotype. Surely, I thought, these students aren’t snagging top jobs based on their infamous poster-board-making skills.
I decided to find out for myself. As a second-semester senior I enrolled in HOD 1000: Applied Human Development. I expected to find insight into a major largely misunderstood by the Vanderbilt population; I thought would gain an understanding of the merits of this highly unusual curriculum. However, with one week of class remaining, I have yet to come to that realization. Instead, I have wondered how the class I am enrolled in could be considered the foundation of anyone’s undergraduate education, and I have become concerned about what the popularity and success of this major says about the state of the university and the nation.
Before I explain my concern further, let me be clear about what I am not saying. I am not saying that HOD majors are unintelligent or that they do not work hard. In fact, I am not interested in talking about HOD students at all; I am speaking about the curriculum. I am also not passing judgment on the entire HOD program; there are hundreds of classes in the department, and I am sure many of them are interesting and some of them are worthwhile.
However, HOD 1000 is a foundational course for the major: students who want to pursue any of the five major tracks (Community Leadership and Development, Health and Human Services, International Leadership and Development, Leadership and Organizational Effectiveness, or Public Policy) must enroll in it. It lays out the fundamental concepts and principle of the major, and, thus, it is a worthwhile place to begin looking at the major. After taking the course, I feel there are some things that need to be said, and, if I learned anything this semester, it is to be direct when expressing my emotions.
Though there has been talk on campus this year about grade inflation at Peabody, my primary concern with HOD is not that the grading standards are too low. It is likely that they are, and that is an easy complaint to level. However, grade inflation is not a problem unique to HOD, Peabody or even Vanderbilt. The problems I have observed run deeper than that: the use of class time, the assignments and the material that is the focus of the class all seem unbefitting of a top-caliber university.
Considering it is a foundational course, surprisingly little instruction occurs during HOD 1000 class time. The class meets twice a week, but because of one of those days is dedicated to small groups meetings , there is only one hour and fifteen minutes of lecture time scheduled each week. Often, less than half of that time is dedicated to the actual instruction. What happens the rest of the time? The first part of every session is dedicated to answering a series of clicker questions, designed not to test understanding of the material, but to survey how the class feels about issues that will be raised in the upcoming class. While this may be a good way to take attendance, I’m not sure what educational value there is in spending ten or fifteen minutes of every class hearing whether the majority of my mostly freshman classmates think about marriage or death.
A substantial part of the remainder of the class is dedicated to watching pop culture multimedia clips. It is hard to believe I am complaining about this, because the clips are entertaining. However, I do not believe the primary purpose of class is to be entertained. It is to learn, and it is not worth $152 —the amount of money it costs every time I set foot in HOD lecture of discussion group—to watch a Pink’s “Don’t Let Me Get Me” to reinforce the point that some people have a negative self-image. Of course, there are benefits to using technology, and perhaps even pop culture, in the classroom, but it all depends how they are used.
In HOD 1000, the analysis of these pop culture clips rarely goes beyond the surface level. It takes little specialized knowledge; in fact it doesn’t even take much though, to see that Avril Lavigne is searching for relational closeness in “I’m With You.” Yet, we spent four minutes watching the video so someone could make that astute observation. I was definitely thrilled each time a clip of one my favorite movie, Jerry Maguire, came upon the screen, but my enjoyment of the clip was hampered by realization that the credit hours being used up to watch a classic blockbuster were taking the place of a class reading Plato, Shakespeare or Adam Smith. It doesn’t seem like an equal tradeoff--especially given the fact that little constructive is done with the clips.
There is a reasonable amount of reading assigned in HOD 1000. Some from a textbook, some from a classpak, and some from a novel: Tuesdays with Morrie. The reading, particularly the classpak reading, is not easy. However, the treatment of the classpak reading is one of the most disturbing elements of HOD. Many of the articles present controversial theories that make even more controversial assumptions. Yet, the context of these articles is rarely explained, and the merits of the conclusions rarely discussed. They are treated as texts from which we should pick out and memorize facts and lists, and then think about how we can apply these facts. Obviously memorization of lists is a part of many undergraduate classes, but this becomes concerning when the material is something that demand to be thought about and challenged, rather than accepted and applied. When the articles were discussed in discussion group it was always in relation to our personal experience or to popular culture or “society.” After reading the first article of the semester, Phillip Cushman’s Why the Self is Empty, I came to class prepared to question his central assumption that human nature is a social construct, but I didn’t have a chance. Instead, we made a list of some things Cushman said in the article, talked about whether we thought people in society were empty, and, I believe, turned the lists we made into some sort of poster.
In general, HOD seems to be feeling-based and experientially focused rather than knowledge or learning focused. This is particularly evident in the discussion groups where sharing about past experiences—how is your relationship with your family? What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done for love?—and performing skits is the norm. While I at times enjoyed vicariously reliving the drama of freshman year, I am not sure what I am getting out of listening to a freshman talk about where she wants to live when she grows up. Small group discussion can be a valuable classroom tool, but it was never used to foster debate or to try to discern what the right answer is, it was used for sharing experiences and making observations about society.
And seriously, unless they serve some specific purpose, skits belong at summer camp.
Overall, I think my biggest concern with HOD 1000 is that it does not foster the critical thinking skills that should be at the foundation of a liberal arts education. There was emphasis on self-reflection and self-improvement that are valuable but seem far more suitable for a self-help book or a therapy session than the foundational class of a major at an academically rigorous school,
So if all of this is true, why are the salaries so high? There are some pretty clear partial explanations for why the salaries are so high: self-selection into higher paying careers, the fact that many other majors feed a large percentage of their most successful students immediately into graduate and professional schools, and the strong Peabody alumni network. However, at least some of the success of the HOD major must be a reflection on a larger culture that is values notions of self-esteem instead of self-discipline, increasingly prizes people skills over character, feelings over reason, and tolerance over critical thinking. The use of pop culture in HOD reflects a society that has tendency to seek instant gratification, and has a need to constantly entertain and be entertained.
Though I always hesitate to question success, sometimes you have look beyond the numbers. It is not clear what the HOD foundational classes add to the program that couldn’t be gained through the development of a public policy major and an undergraduate business program—something that I think would serve Vanderbilt well. Getting rid of the foundational classes would free up more time for students to immerse themselves in the benefits of liberal arts curriculum. And, while discussing Aristotle might not be as entertaining as watching clips from City Slickers, I am confident that it is a better use of tuition dollars.

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