About five years ago I wrote a letter of gratitude to my first grade teacher, Miss Turner. That was about 28 years after she had been my teacher, but I was feeling the need to thank her for her work and influence in my life. It was short, and sweet, and somewhat first grader sounding as I told her something to the effect that, “First impressions often shape us for a long time, like my first grade teacher who was the prettiest, nicest, kindest person.” What I didn’t tell her was that it all seemed to go downhill from there in every grade after that.
Oh, there were a few, and by a few I probably mean about three or four, teachers who stood out now and then over the next 22 years of schooling through my Ph.D. They were by far the exceptions, rather than the rule. Indeed, by the time that I finished my doctorate I remember saying something to my fellow graduate students in regards to how the faculty treated us like, “I don’t think they’re against us, that would require them to actually acknowledge our presence. Rather, I doubt they even think about us at all.” The institutional machine had done its work, every last bit of love, respect, or connection with my teachers, or teaching in general, had essentially been wiped out. Ironically, I became a college professor!
A Friend’s Experience and the Need for Acceptance
As I reflect upon those teachers who I feel were most influential in my life, a common characteristic they share is that I felt like they actually cared about or at least accepted me.
As I reflect upon those teachers who I feel were most influential in my life, a common characteristic they share is that I felt like they actually cared about or at least accepted me. There is an old adage that says, “They don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.” I suspect that holds true in academia as well. The effects of acceptance on our ability to help others, and I think on some levels teaching can be considered a helping profession, was brought even more clearly to my attention about three years ago.
I have a close friend who is a practicing Marriage and Family Therapist in a small town in Arizona. We went to school together in Auburn, Alabama, and we keep in touch on a somewhat regular basis, comparing notes about life in general, kids, family, and career war stories as we pursue our different paths. When he moved to this small southwest town, he acknowledged that he might not be totally accepted by the “locals,” who were more accustomed to dealing with people wearing cowboy boots and driving American-made trucks, than people wearing sandals and driving a VW Jetta like he did. He’d been there a couple of years and established a nice practice for himself when he got a call from a couple experiencing some marital problems and seeking counseling help. When they showed up for their appointment he described the wife as very sharp, educated, on the ball, holding down two jobs and doing all the housework. She was worn out, and my friend felt a lot of empathy for her. Her husband, on the other hand, my friend described as “pushing every ‘gender stereotype’ button in my body,” with his cowboy boots, jeans, huge belt buckle, and pickup truck. He came in, sat down, shoved his feet out in front of him, and complained that he was too tired to help with the housework (even though he was currently unemployed) that it was her job anyway, and that he was not going to change. My friend met with them for the 50 minutes, gave some sort of homework/advice, and sent them on their way. Rhetorically, he said to me, “I wonder if there was some other way to have reached this guy, I just seemed so disconnected from him, I totally don’t understand that point of view.” To this I commented, “so, you didn’t accept him, so you couldn’t help him.” “Ouch!!!” was his response. That would be the “ouch” of truth hitting home.
This experience was timely, as its truth has had much relevance to many different facets of my life. I thought of my oldest brother, with whom I would often get into “oldest versus younger” brother types of conflicts. I could see how I did not accept him, and so was often unable to help, or even listen helpfully, to him. And, of course, there was my teaching. “Do I accept my students?” I asked myself. I didn’t believe I did. This is reflected in how I have acted as the “gatekeeper of knowledge” in the classroom, using virtually all of the class period to lecture on the “real truths” offered by scientifically sound research methods, and giving little to no time for students to share their opinions, experiences, and perspectives with me or with one another.
As I considered my colleagues, I sense that I am not alone in disregarding my students. Indeed, most of those with whom I speak report having had similar academic experiences, especially the “Ph.D.” experience, and we occasionally joke that we continue to “do to our students what was done to us.”
I wonder to what degree I am doing to my students what I perceived as being done to me? Do I think about them? Do I listen? Do I even care what they have to say? And, perhaps most importantly, if I don’t accept them, can I really help them?
I wonder to what degree I am doing to my students what I perceived as being done to me? Do I think about them? Do I listen? Do I even care what they have to say? And, perhaps most importantly, if I don’t accept them, can I really help them? Incidentally, this is why I chose to become a professor of Family Science in the first place, rather than a professor of Marriage and Family Therapy, I wanted to teach and help the masses directly, rather than vicariously teaching others, the future therapists, how to teach and help the masses.
A Crack in the Dam Between My Students and Me
Fortunately, a short while after having the previous conversation with my friend, I was accepted into the FACETS program, a series of seminars helping faculty to understand better the demographics, values, and behaviors of the new Generation Y entering our college classrooms. Over the course of these seminars we learned that, contrary to stereotypes, this generation is the most volunteering generation ever, that many work and have a high work ethic, that with the advent of the world-wide-web they are very knowledgeable about computers, many aspects of life, and the world in general. They don’t want to be lectured to--they want to participate in the learning process. They are also looking for modern day heroes and leaders.
While I must admit that I didn’t “accept” all of this at first blush, it did serve to create a crack in the wall that had been in place between my students and me. While I did not necessarily create this wall, as it has existed between faculty and students for longer than I’ve been alive, I had been an active participant in it maintenance. This wall functioned like a dam holding back tremendous reserves of potential water and energy. It had also held back the tremendous reserves that these students had to offer. Like a crack in a dam, once created, the more water that flows through, the bigger the crack becomes. The FACETS seminars, other books and presentations, and eliciting feedback and listening to the students themselves (heaven forbid) have helped to widen the crack for me still further. Rather than holding back the tremendous reserves of my students, as has been so often an overt part of the educational experience (e.g. unless you have research to back your position, please keep your personal experiences to yourself) I am beginning to see myself as a facilitator, trying to give shape and direction to all that potential water and energy behind the dam, to provide channels of potential utility. Also, like a crack in a dam, especially a concrete dam, while more and more water may pass through at the crack, it still takes a long time to drain the reservoir.
Change: Drop-By-Drop
I used to feel like, “it will be a shame if we don’t cover all of this material this semester.” Now, I have begun to feel like, “what a shame if this semester ends and these 30 students still don’t know each other, and I won’t know them much better either . . .” It has been said that, “to create lasting change onemust create change on the level of the belief system.” Thus, the primary influence that the FACETS program and other recent growth experiences have had on me is to increase my understanding of this generation of students, and to begin to change my belief that students and teachers are by definition adversaries. One manifestation of that change has been the recent change in my feelings as I look out over a classroom. I used to feel like, “it will be a shame if we don’t cover all of this material this semester.” Now, I have begun to feel like, “what a shame if this semester ends and these 30 students still don’t know each other, and I won’t know them much better either. Here are 30 life stories and unique perceptions of the world that could help give some perspective to the material and to life.”
What other manifestations of change have been present in my courses to date? Well, I took a stab at creating student teacher interaction one day and quickly handed out 30 blue post-it-note sheets to the class, one for each person. I then announced that if they’d like to earn 5 points, they just needed to say something, anything. And so it began. What were their responses? “No offense, but the teachers in department X are really boring and dry. All they do is talk about facts, figures, and dates.” Again, “No offense, but, sometimes the teachers in department Y act like we don’t have any other classes but theirs. They totally overload us with busy work.” Remember, they could talk about anything, but what was pressing on their minds, it seemed to me, was the faculty student rift, indeed, it was almost as if they were repeating what I had said myself, “it’s not that they’re against us, it’s that they don’t even think about us.” Obviously, these students did not feel like their teachers cared for or accepted them.
Experiences such as these have motivated me to make other changes in my teaching style as well. For example, I have started giving students the benefit of the doubt. Rather than having a low opinion of them to begin with, and having their failures, like poor work and late assignments, confirm that, I am trying to trust and assume that they are here to learn and are hard working, until proven otherwise.
As they engage in this dual sharing, I find that I am increasingly pleasantly surprised at the number of excellent examples, and unique insights that they provide.
I have also started allocating more time to open class discussion of topics and ideas. Students still need to learn the material, but they also need to talk about it with one another; they need to hear the 30 unique perspectives that are available right there in the classroom. As I allocate more time for students to share amongst themselves in pairs or small groups, I find that they are more willing to share with me, and with the class as a whole. As they engage in this dual sharing, I find that I am increasingly pleasantly surprised at the number of excellent examples, and unique insights that they provide. Indeed, I am approaching the point of naturally needing to ferret out which information is truly essential, which information should students be expected to learn on their own, and which would make for truly interesting, informative, and effective classroom interaction time.
Finally, I am involved in a course redesign project. In the beginning, I defined my goal as finding a way to increase students’ consideration of “research based” information in their family and life decisions. From a preliminary survey of my students I received comments like, “research is important, I just don’t understand it,” and, “I would be much more interesting, if someone would explain it to me.” Apparently, students do think research is important, they just didn’t understand it. Wow! What do you know; I discovered that they were eager to get what I wanted to teach. Before this FACETS experience, I would have thought their reactions meant that their self-centered or naive approach limited them to one perspective of the world. After my FACETS experience (surveying my students), I see that they wanted to understand but didn’t have the tools to do so. Now, whose job is it to help these young people understand these things? Mine! As a result, I have been designing several opportunities for students to engage in and increase their understanding of research-based information over the course of the semester, such as bringing in a research article and dissecting it during class, or having them design and carry out a research project of their own choosing.
One of the “a-ha” moments that snuck up on me this summer was when I realized that the roadblock in my classroom is not simply an issue of my students’ understanding, considering, or accepting the research I present to them. Rather, the issue has been primarily about mutual acceptance and openness to alternative points of view—that my students consider my approach to research, and that I consider their life perspectives. Considering alternative perspectives is at the heart of higher education, or at least that’s what I regularly read in the Chronicle of Higher Education. And yet, the wall of non-acceptance between my students and me had been keeping these higher educational experiences from happening.
The Future
There is one last real world analogy that I’d like to share that highlights my goals for future interaction between my students and me. For decades, United States foreign policy towards China had been one of division, separation, and barriers to trade. The U.S. hoped that through its sanctions and punishments China would change its human rights policies. China didn’t change. Recently, the United States adopted a different policy, one of acceptance and change through interaction. They decided that in spite of the human rights differences, they would go ahead and open their borders and encourage trade with China. Through increased interaction with China, the US hoped that understanding would occur, and change would take place. While that remains to be seen, the compelling logic is that understanding and subsequent change are facilitated through interaction rather than isolation.
My father was a teacher. During a visit home this summer I noticed a book in the bookcase that I had seen before titled The Students, My Friends. I thought it would be interesting for me to read that book. When I was offered a job at UWSP, I discussed it with the Assistant Dean at Auburn. He characterized Auburn as a smaller school, where faculty student relations were more personal, where it might even be customary for faculty to have their class to their house for a barbeque at the end of the semester. I think I might try that sometime. Who knows, perhaps with increased interaction between my students and me, our understanding of one another might also be increased, and that change for will be for the better.
Afterthoughts
Perhaps my journey has been about seeing people as they really are, rather than how I want them to be. Indeed, it is about acceptance. As I told my friend, if you do not accept the person in front of you, how can you help them?
It has been said that the more things change, the more they stay the same. While this might be taken negatively, I think there is a positive spin as well. For example, I suspect that there have always been “good” teachers, who have accepted their students, even when those teachers may have been the exception, rather than the norm. That being the case, this whole process may be more about raising my own awareness of what has already existed, rather than changing the world around me. This is a good thing. After all, I am the master of my own ship, and it is much easier to change my own course, than to change the sea level of institutions, or set the sails for each of my students. Perhaps my journey has been about seeing people as they really are, rather than how I want them to be. Indeed, it is about acceptance. As I told my friend, if you do not accept the person in front of you, how can you help them?
Brief Bio: Sterling is originally from Oregon. His undergrad work was done at Brigham Young University, and he received his M. S. in Counseling in Colorado, and his Ph.D. in Human development and Family Studies from Auburn University. He has also done missionary service in Idaho, Utah, and Wyoming. He has five children. Sterling teaches a variety of courses in Family Studies at UWSP. Contact Sterling at: swall@uwsp.edu