Teaching how to teach has always been problematic. Veteran educators in particular are sometimes leery about pedagogical advice, especially from non-instructors, who might be tagged skeptically as civilians. This phenomenon is probably true of all professions. Try telling cops or surgeons how to do their jobs.
Faculty members, in the worst-case scenario, sometimes get clenched jaws at in-service programs that feature, with the best of intentions, a teaching technique offered from someone who, one suspects, has never stood in front of a group of real students in a real class or given a real grade. (This may explain why the Great Ideas for Teaching Students (GIFTS) programs are so popular at the TCCTA annual convention, as the sessions are led by practitioners. This is not a plug—which will come later, in shameless detail.)
In this spirit, please have a look at a recent article by Rob Jenkins in the Chronicle of Higher Education. (Subscription is required, but, as with heroin, maybe the first one is free, or perhaps your library has a hard copy.) Dr. Jenkins is an associate professor of English at Georgia Perimeter College. He blogs at www.nccforum.org and writes monthly for the Chronicle's community college column. His book, "Building a Career in America's Community Colleges," has just been published by the American Association of Community Colleges and the Community College Press. Now that's a plug.
More to the point here, he has lots of community college teaching experience, in rural and metropolitan areas.
The article gives practical advice on a mildly philosophical level. Most of us composed a Philosophy of Teaching only when it was required to apply for a job, then probably forgot about it. That's not the kind of exercise Professor Jenkins pursues here. Please read the whole article, which is pithy and concise.
Some (drastically) abridged points:
College students are adults. People tend to rise or fall to the level that is expected of them. Make it clear that you think students are stupid and, odds are, they will underperform. Act like you expect them to misbehave, and your classroom will probably resemble a war zone. But if you tell students upfront that you consider them to be adults, and then treat them accordingly, most will attempt to live up to the label.
Teaching is performance art. The concept of the teacher as performer, as "the sage on the stage," has fallen out of favor in recent years. But the fact is, we are sages and we are on a stage. How we perform—that is, how we teach—is every bit as important as what we teach.
Great teachers may be born, but good teachers are made. The ability to become a great teacher—one who inspires students and seems to connect with them effortlessly—is a gift, an innate talent like musical ability or athletic prowess. Just like any other gift, it can either be squandered or put to good use. The very best teachers are those who have the gift and have worked hard over many years to further develop it—although we often overlook the hard work because they make being a great teacher look so easy. Just as with any other skill, the key to becoming a good teacher is to want to become one.
You don't have to be a jerk. If you consistently place your ego and personal interests ahead of others' needs—even when those needs should be paramount—then you are a jerk. The teacher as jerk can take many forms: someone who never returns papers, who avoids office hours, who passes the buck on advising, who generally thinks that his or her time is more important than anyone else's.
All you need is love. Whenever I hear a faculty member constantly talking about how stupid or rude students are, I think to myself, "Then why are you doing this?" It's little wonder that their teaching ratings show that students don't care much for them, either.
Comments