Handout: KindnessInTeaching
Example syllabi:
Text for presentation on 4/27/2022, Lilly Online conference, “Kindness: It’s Not Just for Pushovers Anymore”
Teaching is so fun. That thrill of seeing a student’s face when a tough concept clicks. Sometime an audible “oooooooooohhh I get it.” Or if you’re lucky, “Huh! Pretty cool.” Or occasionally “Wait, so… is it just… that? Is that all it is?” That’s my favorite. When they break through a long-held mental barrier. That’s a great day. I started out teaching small classes. A few dozen students. I knew everyone’s name, my students and I would recognize one another in passing on campus, most students attended class, it was good. Hard work, but good. Gratifying.
Then in Fall 2009, I got assigned to teach my first large lecture class. The enrollment was maxed out at the capacity of the lecture hall, 344 seats. Two sections, back to back. 688 students in total. The lecture hall was called “The Forum”. I was nervous, but I still had a big smile on my face as I clipped that lapel mic to my shirt the first day. I had visions of sugarplums, and the vicarious pleasure of the ‘Eureka’ moment times 688 students dancing in my head as I watched the stream of students filing in fill up the vast ocean of seats. It… didn’t turn out to be sugarplums. I had no idea that I would get the same question over email hundreds of times. That so many students didn’t read the syllabus. Not only did I not know their names, they didn’t even know MY name.
The first few years were pretty rough. I struggled with classroom management, and unconsciously developed a defensive and mistrustful attitude with my students – always on guard for how they might be trying to take advantage of me. I felt like a beleaguered soldier in combat. I was even judgy of other teachers who were nice. I distinctly remember one day in that same lecture hall The Forum a few years later waiting to set up for class, and watching the professor of the class before me interact with his students asking questions after class. I was already anxious (ok, grumpy) waiting for him to leave because I needed a long time to set up my laptop, clicker software, connect the sound, write announcements on the board, etc. I heard him say “How can I help you my friend?” as a student approached. I remember rolling my eyes and thinking “omg, THIS GUY. We’re not their friend, we’re their teacher. They’re going to eat him alive.” That was my attitude. For years.
Cut to a few more years later. One day a senior professor I respected said in a meeting: “You’ve gotta love your students. If you don’t, you’re in the wrong profession.” Initially I scoffed at this in my mind, thinking that was a naïve comment. But then I had the sobering realization that this guru wasn’t naïve. I was. That affable professor in the 350-seat lecture hall that I scoffed at probably loved his job. And his students probably loved his class. They were more open to learning because of it. It was a rare “eureka!” moment.
This galvanized me into gradually changing my attitude toward my students. It took a few semesters to settle into being comfortable in my teaching skin, but now I view us as players on the same team, with the same goal: for them to learn. I assume that they have the best intentions, and treat them with warmth, respect, and compassion.
It has transformed the atmosphere in my classroom, and immeasurably amplified my job satisfaction and enjoyment. Instead of feeling like a soldier fending off an attack, I now feel more like a coach of a sports team, or a proud parent. And they don’t eat me alive. I took off my armor, and they took off theirs. We have more energy and attention to devote to teaching and learning.
The sub-title of my presentation today could have been “Confessions of a Reformed Jerk”
Now I’d like to invite you to think back to an experience you had as a student where a teacher did something that struck you as particularly kind or unkind. If you’re willing to share it, please type it in the chat. Two requests: (1) no teacher names, and (2) start it with the word “kind” or “unkind” so we can quickly visually sort.
[Go over handout.]
[Other ideas?]