By now I should know better than to answer one of Louis' declarations of
pedagogical wisdom, but here goes:
Students have all kinds of inappropriate and unrealistic expectations of
what goes on in universities (mostly mediated by movies and television).
Thus, what they want (if indeed Louis is correct that "connection" is
what some unspecified proportion of students actually want from their
professors) is a poor guide to what we should be doing. I am not there
to be their friend. I am not there to be a surrogate for their parents.
I am not there to be their spirit guide. I am there to be one professor
among many in their education. I do that best NOT when I pretend to know
the answers to all their existential needs (because I don't), but when I
teach them what I know (preferably while modeling some good intellectual
and professional habits).
Let the frats do what the frats do, and the clubs and sports teams do
what the clubs sports teams do. They all have their place. I am a
professor. I am going to do what professors do -- teach. I will try to
do it with creativity and enthusiasm. I will not feign that this is
deeply meaningful experience for me personally (and I don't expect my
students to do so either). When students come out of my stats course,
the primary measure of my success is not how "connected" they feel with
me, but how well they are able to do statistical analysis. When they
come out of my history of psych course, the primary measure of my
success is how much of that history they know. Over and above that, it
would also be gratifying if they think that stats or history is more
interesting than when they went into the course (but it is not required
of either of us).
Judging by the stories Louis has told about his conversations with
students over the years (some of which may not actually be his, as we
learned last year when he repeated the punch line of a Taylor Mali poem
as his own experience), I would not have found such a teacher to be
"warm" or "welcoming." To be frank, I would have found it a bit creepy.
Too much self-disclosure on offer. Too much expected as well. And I am
absolutely certain that many of my students would find it creepy if I
acted that way as well. Chacun son gout!
I do not know what kind of ethnic environment Louis (or any of the rest
of you) teaches in, but I teach in one that is wildly diverse. (Toronto
was named by the UN the most most ethnically diverse city in the world a
few years back. Whether or not that is true, it is still the home of
dozens and dozens of different languages and cultures.) York is a pretty
faithful cross-section of the city. One person could not possibly know
what all the social customs and expectations are of the students here,
and making assumptions would be a foolish mistake. Far from trying to be
"close" to each and every one of my students, I try adopt a stance of
professional respect. For some, it may seem a little "cool." They will
soon learn the difference between a personal and professional
relationship. For most, it is just fine, and it is a good way not to
accidentally step across personal "lines" that you may not even know are
there. Louis may work in a more homogeneous environment in which making
assumptions about students' expectations is not as vulnerable to
miscalculation. In a place like York (or in any large city, I'd wager),
it is likely to land one in a place somewhere between embarrassing and
professionally lethal.
I try to be kind. But there are limits if I am not to become a pushover.
As a professor, I would much rather have students ask me to be their
honors supervisor because I'm one of the most knowledgeable people they
have ever met rather than because I am one of the kindest, gentlest
people they have ever met. If they come to me for the former reason,
they want to learn. If they come to me for the latter reason, they are
hoping for leniency.
As for students wanting to know what kind of person I am, I think Louis
is flat wrong about this being "the most important question they ask."
(Indeed, why would anyone ask such a question essentially on the basis
of seeing my name printed in a course catalog?) It seems perfectly plain
that people take my course because they want or are required to know
about stats or history (often buttressed by their finding convenient the
day and time at which I teach the course), not because they want to know
more about this guy named Green. If for some idiosyncratic reason they
have taken my course because they want to know me better, they have
fundamentally misunderstood the purpose of a university course.
Chris Green
York U.
Toronto
================
Louis Schmier wrote:
According to the research, come to our campuses and go into our
classrooms wanting
connection far more than they want information, and feel they get very
little of it in the
classroom. That’s why sports, Greeks, clubs are so vibrant. They give
what the students
want and need that they do not generally get in the classroom.
Moreover, when they come
into a class, the most important question they ask is “who is this
person,” wanting to
know of the professor’s character. At the bottom of their list of
questions is “what does
this person know.”
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