“If you never change your mind, why have one?”
– Edward de Bono
We are, as teachers, in the business of changing minds. Despite this, we are often reluctant to change our own.
Over the years, I’ve adopted a number of policies, many of them draconian. When I was a new teacher, these were designed to keep students from walking all over me, since I was young and inexperienced. I remember being so frustrated with students being late to class that I locked the door one night ten minutes into class. That one showed up on an evaluation.
I have since changed my mind, on that and a number of other issues:
- I ignore lateness for the most part, though if it’s excessive I give a hearty, cheery, pointed hello to the individual as s/he comes in.
- I don’t care if their cell phone rings during class — heck, mine might. Most of my students think they’re fitting school into their lives, rather than the other way around. I just ask them to go outside if they need to take the call.
- I have a lot of kinesthetic learners, and I am fine if they leave the room and return during class. I just ask that they don’t treat me like a TV — if I’m talking to the class, we should adapt the “blocking” to not cross in front of each other.
- If a student falls asleep in class, I ignore that and catch the student as s/he leaves with a concerned comment, asking if they’re OK.
- If students ask about a policy or rule I haven’t created yet, I ask them what they think and we do it together. After all, if it were that important to me, I would have the rule set already.
- I don’t ask for a doctor’s note, nor do I distinguish excused from unexcused absences. I figure that’s why I teach college instead of lower grades. Whether they miss class because the surf’s up or because they were in the hospital, the result is the same. They missed class and need to consult the policy on that (no makeups, half credit max for what was missed).
- I tell them why I’ve designed things the way I have (to increase skills from factual to analytical), why I want homework done every week (practice), why it has to be typed (others in the group have to be able to read it), why I don’t like what the authors of their book did in this chapter, etc. [I'll blog more late on this "transparent pedagogy".]
- I do not spend extensive office hours listening to them talk about their abusive families, their nasty job, their medical diagnosis, the tough life they’ve had — as I said to a colleague, they are here in college to overcome these things, not wallow in them. I’m there to show them what to focus on and make recommendations for how to focus on my class if their life challenges allow it.
- I apologize when I screw up, whether it’s a wrong date on the syllabus or a bad log-in procedure on the website.
- I never try to be their friend, their mother, their parole officer, or their boss. I am there to provide an environment, resources and an approach in which they can learn history. Whether they choose to take advantage of it is up to them.
The result is that I haven’t had a student “discipline” problem in many years now. I recently realized in talking with an associate (who was having problems with her class) that I have a whole different perspective now. I set a few broad rules for the class that I expect everyone to follow, but I am open to individual exceptions at all times. I don’t tell the students this. They find out when they come to me, person to person (and online), with a problem. I am grateful they want to be responsible for their work, and they are grateful for my flexibility.
I did not set out to create an environment of mutual respect, but just to be myself and relax a bit, so we could focus on history. I won’t compromise on the quality of their work, the skills I want them to learn, or the progress I want them to make. But I have indeed changed my mind about controlling the setting through extensive rule-making that is designed, really, to assert my own authority. I already have authority. It’s given to me by the situation of teacher and learner, and by my own confidence in myself and my work.
I have much less experience than you, but I think I’m moving in the direction of most of these already. As you say, it’s one reason why we teach college rather than lower grades – we deal with adults, or proto-adults at least – and they can make their choices and take the consequences. The real consequences, not some invented to impose authority.
Great reflection, Lisa. I like your professional approach. Good to learn how you have tackled the tough problems, not easy at all, and I could see you have unique strategies.
And Ed, your situation sounds different, with adults. Do you need to impose with any rules?
It’s a different world in my teaching. I love on-the-job training and assessment with adults over classroom teaching: no lesson, no discipline problem. And the one-on-one was a perfect solution to learning to him/her. They love it too.
So, if I were to have a choice….would I choose classroom? I have been there in classrooms for decades, but some of my students still like it… so just wondering why?
Thanks for sharing.
John
I believe my students are of similar age or younger than Lisa’s – mostly 17-22. I try to treat them as adults and hope they will respond appropriately.
Ed, I see. Lisa, here is my further comment.
I think this depends on the cultural and educational background too. Would it be the case?
When I was the Deputy Head of a Dept in the 90s, most of my learners (FT Diploma) were in their late teens – around 18 – 19 and PT students were adults. Such students were homogenous in many ways, and I couldn’t see much problems in discipline. Now, it’s all different here, with adults of different ethnic and educational background, with different needs and expectations. Many students are still used to the lectures, and some are interested in the certificates.
So, we are making lots of assumptions and our strategies would work if our strategies could resolve those issues. More often the case, it is much more complex.
I have coordinated courses where people have different “issues” – emotional distress, disorders, learning difficulties, etc, and I can’t go into details due to confidentiality. That require a totally different solution. I resorted to student counsellors (working with students and counsellors) in some cases.
So, in our connectivism course, what assumptions have we made?
I understand that we are just educators, not psychologists (but you may be one), so can we solve all these problems? In the online environment, there is hardly anywhere of knowing who those learners actually are, if they use avatars and camouflage all the artefacts (even using fee-for-service for assignments) ooh…..
Good to share more stories on this, Lisa, and Ed, isn’t it?
What sort of support do you require in your colleges? Do you have student counsellors that you could refer to?
Cheers.
John