Advice to Young Teachers: Be Yourself

I don't know who said it first, but here's the best critique I've heard of Leonard Cohen: "No one can sing a Leonard Cohen song like Leonard Cohen can't."  Apropos.  And not meant, I think, as an insult.  (If you're unfamiliar with the work of Leonard Cohen, just insert Bob Dylan's name into the quote, and you have the same idea--oh, and get familiar with the work of Leonard Cohen.)  Despite his indisputable talents as a lyricist and composer, Cohen is, shall we say, a somewhat limited.  But that's OK, because he knows his limitations and arranges his songs to take advantage of both the good and bad qualities of his voice.  If  he tried to sing like someone with better vocal "chops," the effect would no doubt prove disastrous.

The other day, a new part-time faculty member came to see me.  She was concerned about the fact that some students persisted in texting in her class despite several reminders that this was not acceptable.  She asked me how I handled similar situations.  Honestly, I told her, I usually don't.

I explained: My feeling is, these students have chosen to attend college, they have paid to take my class, and, if they choose to spend class time texting friends instead of paying attention to what's going on in the classroom, then that is their prerogative.  Similarly, though, I explain to these students that, if they produce unsatisfactory work or get low test scores because they don't pay attention in class, then I will fail them: That is my prerogative.  (Of course, if their cellphone behavior becomes a disruption to me or to other students, then it's on like Donkey Kong.)  Ultimately though, I explained to the part-timer, I don't get angry.  I don't yell.  I don't lecture students about the importance of taking notes or of showing teachers respect.  I don't tell them their texting is bothering other students because, as far as I can tell, it isn't: Those who want to pay attention have no difficulty doing so.

So, the new teacher asked, I won't get in trouble for NOT telling these students to stop texting?  Well, I answered, let me ask you this, Does it really bother YOU that the students are texting?

"Not particularly."

Is it disrupting the class?

"No, it doesn't seem like anybody else is even really noticing."

And how do you feel when you tell people to stop texting?

"Honestly, I feel kind of silly."

Well, then, there's your answer.

To be clear, I'm not condoning texting in class. I don't think it's the best use of a student's class time, especially when they could be listening to my trenchant, stimulating lectures (my disquisition on the semi-colon has brought a tear to many an eye).  And I do try to discourage texting in the way mentioned above.  I encouraged the new teacher to adopt or adapt my methods as she saw fit.  Which is the ultimate point of today's post: Teachers must do as they see fit--and they must do it in a way that is natural to them.

Students, even inexperienced ones, possess highly-sensitive bullshit detectors.  And when teachers adopt strategies that they themselves do not believe in, these detectors go off.  A former drill sergeant stepping into a classroom can command immediate respect by treating his students like raw recruits on day one of basic training; I am not a former drill sergeant.  A kindly grandmother-type can win students over with maternal expressions of care and concern; I am not a kindly grandmother-type.  A cynical bastard can win students' cooperation by expressing the fact that, as long as they don't make his life miserable, it's no skin off his back whether they pass or fail; a cynical bastard can point out that it's THEIR time and money they're wasting, but please themselves; a cynical bastard can suggest that, since they've gotten up early and dragged themselves in to school, they might as well get something out of it. . . . Now this strategy I can get behind!  And my students understand where I'm coming from and, quite often, stop (or at least cut down on) texting and other non-scholarly behaviors.

Accept your limitations.  Play to your strengths.  Otherwise, your teaching style will be the equivalent of Leonard Cohen trying to sing like Freddie Mercury.  And nobody wants to hear that.

Conundrum

On the other side of the glass emergency-exit door, students mill about on the quad, talking, laughing, enjoying another perfect day in northern California.  I, however, take no notice, fixated as I am on the emergency exit's pushbar.  A colleague comes over.

--What's wrong?

--I'm not sure what to do.

--What happened?

--A little while ago, someone went out through this door, and the alarm didn't go off.

--OK.

--So I just re-armed the alarm.

--Right.

--The problem is, I was sure that the alarm WAS armed before that guy went through it.

--OK.

--So, now, even though I KNOW I just armed the alarm, how do I know that it will go off if someone goes through it again?

--Can't you test it?

--How?

--You want me to go through?

--But if you do that, and the alarm goes off, I'll need to turn the alarm off and then reset it again.

--Right?

--And then I'll be right back in the same situation.

--Oh yeah.  (Pause)  Well, what do you want to do?

--I guess there's nothing I CAN do.

--Guess not.  So, should we go?

--Yes, let's go.

We do not move.

Another Day of Musings

Today I went to a conference in Sacramento.  Just outside the city limits, a freeway sign read,

"Placerville                        44
Reno                                126
Ocean City, MD           3,074"

Unless, for some as yet unknown reason, a sizable contingent of Sacramentians travels regularly to Ocean City, I think this sign offers some insight into Californian governmental dysfunction.  What hope have we of achieving legislative cooperation when even the traffic signs are sarcastic?

More Musings

I like to think I'm an "outside-the-box" thinker.  But these days, everybody thinks outside the box.  What is one to do?  Think inside the box, of course!

Now THAT's some outside-the-box thinking!

WOS: Bra. Vo.

Advice to Young Teachers (and Certain Obtuse Politicos): I DON'T Know What You Mean

I give lots of feedback to my writing students, probably more than they've received from any other writing teacher.  I tell them, before I hand back their papers, that I can be extremely nit-picky.  I can (and do) pull apart even the most seemingly innocuous statements if those statements are in any way ambiguous.  I also tell them that, for many of them, their initial response to my comments will often be, "Oh, you know what I mean!"

NEVER say to me, "You know what I mean."

If I KNEW what you meant, I explain, then I would hardly need to read your writing.  And if, in the real world, you find yourself forced to say "You know what I mean," then the odds are that your interlocutor does not, in fact, know what you mean.  Be clear.

I thought of this today as I listened to the Mitt-Romney-formerly-known-as-a-presidential-candidate attempt to explain his offensive, condescending remarks about nearly 50% of the American population: You remember, the people he said--actually SAID--he "doesn't care about."  Essentially, his defense was a variation on, "You know what I mean!"  No, Mitt, we don't!

Or, in your case--even worse--maybe we do.

Great Moments in Management

SOLIPSIST'S LACKEY: We need more of those sheets where people can reserve the group-study room.

SOLIPSIST: OK, give me a minute.

L: Well, this girl wants to reserve the room now.

S: Oh, OK, well just get her information, and we'll write it on the sheet when I print some out.

L: No, I mean, she's here, and she wants to reserve the room for right now.

S: For "now"?

L: Well, three o'clock.

S: . . . It's ten after three.

L: Yeah.

S: Well, she doesn't need to reserve it.  She should just go in and use it.

L: But there's somebody in there.

S: Oh. . . So. . . What does she want, exactly?

L: I guess she wants to reserve the room so that she can use it, and the people in there now have to leave.  (Pause.)  Yeah.

S: So, if I'm understanding correctly, she wants to reserve the room retroactively starting ten minutes ago, and have me go in and tell the people who are there now that the room was reserved before they got there?

L: I guess so.

S: I can't do that.

L: Why not?

S: Well, for one thing, I can't travel backwards in time.

L: You can't?

S: I know you're disappointed.

L: I am disappointed.

S: For another thing--

L: Can you travel forwards in time?

S: Can't everybody?

L: Oh yeah.

S: For another thing, I don't exactly think that would be the polite thing to do.

L: So. . .You want to explain this to her.

S: Not really.

L: You want me to explain this to her?

S: I want you to explain the fundamental concept of "reservation" to her.

L: I don't get paid enough!

S: Nobody does.

Swamped

The Solipsist will return with new bits of wit and wit and wisdom tomorrow.  I'm stuck in the middle of grading: These papers won't fail themselves!

(And to all my students who may be reading: I'm TOTALLY kidding!  You guys are awesome!)

(To everybody else: I'm TOTALLY not kidding.)

(Or am I?)